#but it existed for a brief while. he felt that peace and comfort. he enjoyed the natural beauty. and he NEEDED it. he still needs it

[vickyvicarious]

I looked out over the beautiful expanse, bathed in soft yellow moonlight till it was almost as light as day. In the soft light the distant hills became melted, and the shadows in the valleys and gorges of velvety blackness. The mere beauty seemed to cheer me; there was peace and comfort in every breath I drew.

Jonathan Harker: "Yes I am a prisoner. Yes, my legal services are complete now. Yes, I just wrote a letter that I am fine and staying over, and therefore can I be disposed of any day now. Yes, my sleep schedule is screwed because I stay up all night with my captor and play nice.

But this shan't stop me from waxing poetic about the velvet darkness over nature and the soft moonlight!"

Jonathan: I Am Going To Seize This Moment Of Peace And Beauty And You Can't Stop Me

Dracula: wanna bet? *lizards*

[stagbells]

Written Work

From: @voidsiblings

To: @grollow

Note: MERRY CHRISTMAS ASHE I hope you enjoy your babies, and I also hope you don't mind me kidnapping the Firefly muse for a week or two. ^▽^ (He was well-behaved. Mostly.)

Written work under readmore

The meadow is lush, honey-green with sunlight and the smell of nectar. Humming with wings, flowers bobbing low and heavy, the soft expanse of it stretching far into the distance, unbroken by hill or tree. This kingdom is spread wide and sparse on a river plain—a river whose floods grow more violent by the year, smashing watercraft and demolishing bridges, pushing the tideline higher and higher on the legs of the stilt-houses.

This year will be its last, Grimm thinks.

It is beautiful while it still exists, though. When it falls, it will be beautiful still: a more desolate beauty, and one few will be here to appreciate. Perhaps ironically, immortality has taught him to enjoy what is fleeting, to find comfort in the sensation of letting go, in allowing the course of things to proceed as it will.

He cups a flower in his fingers as he passes, waxy petals dragging over his palm. It is not often that he reflects on the sum of his experiences; it is easier to take each life as its own cycle, starting afresh each time the wheel of rebirth turns.

He’s been thinking of it more, lately.

It’s no secret as to why.

The sun is at his back as he walks, warming his wing sails, casting his shadow over the grasses. There is no hurry, he knows. Hours have passed since they left the market, hours in which this trail has gone cold. He’s still not sure what he’ll find at the end of it, or how far it might lead him, but this is a pattern: as clear as the impressions in the soil that he follows, footprints leading toward the riverbank.

It has been months since this last happened, and he had hoped—

But no. He made plain that there were no expectations. It would have been uncommonly cruel—not to mention the height of hypocrisy—to impose any.

As before, it was agony to wait, to allow them what they asked for, to busy himself as long as he could stand. He held his breath when he finally set out, half-convinced that this would be the time they disappeared and left no trace, despite the promise they’d made him.

The relief he felt upon finding their trail was palpable—a brief flicker in his fire, a skip of his absent heart. They passed unnoticed when they wished to, and he knew the destruction they could leave when they chose. This was neither: a deliberate path through the meadow, crushed grasses and bent stems, leaving him no doubt that they wanted him to find them.

That it is extraordinary for them to show even this much trust does not escape him. Nor does the desire inherent in it—the desire to be pursued, to be caught and, eventually, held.

As much as he wishes to comment on it, to tease, he has not yet.

Maybe soon. Maybe one day.

The terrain slopes gradually, so subtly that one might miss it, down toward the river, the flat aspect of the plains slowly giving way to their source. Will the flowers still grow after the kingdom falls? Will the layers of rich mud spread over their roots and eventually choke them, or will they flourish all the more in the excess?

The river itself is nearly as wide and flat as what surrounds it. No more than a shimmer on the horizon at first, it broadens into a serene silver ribbon flanked with low, twisted shrubs and whispering rushes. The water is peaceful, languid and slow, giving no hint of the torrent that arrives every spring.

A tangle of mud, stones, and shells lines the shore. The footprints continue, patchy and sparse, along the waterline, rounding a bend in the current and disappearing into a stand of reeds.

What he sees when he pushes through them is exactly what he expects.

Hollow sits near the river’s edge, one foot propped up on the stone beneath them, the other dangling in the water. They share his fascination, he’d been delighted to discover—ponds and lakes and rivers all receiving that same quiet attention, unwavering, every sign of distraction or impatience draining away for as long as they could stand to stare out at that shifting horizon.

Relief is hot in his throat, a burning coal unswallowed. He trusts them, of course. Explicitly. And part of that trust is keeping them in an open hand, allowing them the freedom they never had. Letting go of them and waiting, arm outstretched, for their return.

They never fly far.

Still, he cannot pretend that the placement of the Troupe’s tents so close to the river was anything but intentional.

They don’t turn to look at him as he approaches. As he settles, cloak pooling around him in bloody scarlet, atop a nearby stone. Not too close, but within reach. He knows what they want by now.

Silence, at first. Merely his presence is enough to agitate them a little, to make the line of their shoulders rise and their face tilt farther away from him. Being observed carries a weight for them that reminds him of his early days as a performer, when the crowds’ collective gaze had seemed to tighten around him like a length of invisible silk.

So he doesn’t look. So he stares out toward the opposite shore, not quite seeing it for the glare of sunlight on the water, and waits.

In the corner of his vision, their shoulders drop again. Slowly, inch by inch. It will be some time before they speak to him, time he measures in careful breaths, in the lap of waves at his feet, in the idle shift of waterweed beneath the surface.

Their voice does not come, though. When they move, it is only to unwrap their arm from around their knee, to open their fist above the rock where he sits. A few porcelain shards drop from their grip with a clatter.

Ah.

He selects one, picks it up between his claws. Holds it to the light. It’s delicate, nearly translucent, with a scalloped rim and golden flowers painted in the bowl. This piece once held the handle, now snapped in half near the stem.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, turning it over, watching the metallic paint shimmer. “A fine choice.”

They don’t answer, but he can feel them eyeing him.

Without hesitation, he leans down and dips the remnant of teacup into the river, holding it gingerly by the remaining nub of handle, and takes a sip.

They’re actively staring at him when he looks up. He allows his eyes to narrow behind the mask, a swell of amusement more felt than seen.

Hollow snorts, a silent huff of air, all the more expressive given that they don’t truly need to breathe. That is all for him, their emotions given form for his benefit, and it warms him like the sweetest of flames.

He sets the no-longer-a-teacup down among its other pieces, none of them whole enough to hold more than a few drops. One or two are edged in black, a fact he chooses to ignore.

“You have fine taste in views as well, my dear,” he sighs, leaning back on his hands, tilting his face up toward the lowering sun.

Are you including yourself in that judgement?

He hides his jolt of surprise rather skillfully, he thinks. “If you like,” is his only answer, accompanied by a squinted scarlet eye.

They don’t comment on that, instead turning back toward the river, lightly kicking the foot that’s dangling off the stone. Little shadows dart away from their claws under the surface, small fish or, perhaps, nymphs of some sort; he’s never managed to find out.

“I should ask if there is anything worthwhile to catch in this river,” he muses. Not without purpose—they’ll recognize what he’s attempting to do, though he can only guess how they’ll respond. “And what one might use to catch it. If it’s likely to involve an excessive amount of digging for bait, I would rather not.”

It will be an excuse to spend more time at the water, at least. Though he does not enjoy fish, some of the more carnivorous members of his Troupe might.

Hollow doesn’t move except to stir the water again, watching the ripples flow outward and then fade. Grimm continues to talk about fishing rods, local cuisine, the beaches he’s visited—anything he can think of—while watching for any hint of change in their mood.

It’s often like this, after one of their spells. They retreat, drawing back behind a distant wall. Sometimes it is days before he feels like he truly sees them again.

This was… not a particularly bad one. Not since they were able to escape quickly, to get away from the situation before their instincts took hold. There were only a few ruffled tempers to soothe, only a few broken things to pay for.

He had suspected what happened as soon as he got close enough to hear the shouting. To see the vendor’s table upset, her wares scattered in the mud, the crooked knife clutched in her hand as she stared around at nothing—at everything.

“A wight,” the young lacewing hissed, when he asked her what she saw. “A-a thing of shadow, it was. Its eyes—”

“Before that,” he said, patiently.

She shook her head a little too hard. “I thought—a bug. A tall one. It was looking at my things.”

Grimm glanced back over his shoulder, ignoring the choked noise she made as his neck turned a little farther than it strictly should. Broken pieces of porcelain littered the ground. At his feet lay a white saucer, snapped in two, its halves pressed into the mud by the pad of a clawed footprint.

He knelt to pick them up, careful of the sharp edges. “And what did you say to this bug?”

The vendor gulped again. “I-I said to be careful. To watch those—those claws.”

That was likely not enough to set them off, but surely there was more. “And?”

The bug lifted a shoulder. “And… nothing. No answer.”

He could guess where it had gone from there. Voices raised, attention drawn, panic and anger silently rising. Until they felt pinned, trapped, void boiling beneath their shell. Until they felt they had no choice but to disappear.

“My apologies,” he murmured, taking her shaking hand and tucking the saucer pieces into it. “Tally your costs. My Troupe will cover the damages.”

“Your what?” She turned to stare after him as he walked away. “Who are you?”

He hadn’t bothered to explain. She would find out soon enough. It wasn’t as if there were any other nightmare circuses nearby.

Now, he realizes, he’s been silent too long. Hollow’s gaze has drifted back to the shattered cup, the darkness behind their mask whirling with unreadable thoughts.

“There are more teacups at the market,” he said gently.

But it is not only the teacup. It is the way their temper rises so fast, the way it takes hold of them, driving them to extremes that they regret near-instantly.

It is the way that, to them, the mortals that surround them are every bit as fragile as porcelain.

He sighs, drawn out in the silence. “If it helps, I have promised to compensate her.”

They nod, once shallowly. Acknowledgement, not agreement.

Perhaps it was too much to hope that he could resolve this so easily.

Grimm reaches down, stirs his claws through the broken pieces. “Was this for me?”

He knows the answer. And yet something in him still melts a little when they nod. Even shallower, this time, and he can read their misery in it.

“Have I told you why I collect them?”

At their blank stare, he hums, tipping his head backward and squinting against the spill of light across his face. “They remind me of someone. Someone that I would rather not remember.”

They tilt their head. A minute question, nearly invisible. If he wants more, he will have to work for it.

“But, more than that, they remind me of what I have overcome. Of the fact that I am more than my worst memories. That I can look at them, now, and gain joy and satisfaction, instead of only pain. That is why I keep them.”

It took him far too long to get there, he wants to say—but if he allows himself the same kindness he extends to them, as they would tell him he ought, perhaps it took exactly as long as it should.

They are both immortal, after all.

Their hand has crept upward where it wraps around their chest, toward the mass of scars at their shoulder. Feeling through the outline of their faded cloak at the peaks and craters there, at the ways their imprisonment reformed them.

He has scars of his own. Scars he would give up if he could, in a heartbeat. Is that why he truly keeps them—the cups, the teapots? Is he giving himself an out, knowing he can rid himself of this one reminder, if he chooses?

But he doesn’t. He hasn’t. And it’s tangible proof that, given time, given the chance, he can heal. Not just in body, but in mind.

They did not know him then. They don’t know how much of himself he sees in them now, how much faith he has that they can achieve the same.

They can learn.

He has an eternity to show them.

They still do not answer. They shift their gaze away from the broken cup, though, to stare across the river, where the sky is catching brighter hues as the sun sinks through, orange bleeding into gold.

He’s perfectly ready to sit there with them all night, if they like. It will not be the first.

Finally, their hand falls open in their lap. A conscious effort to let go, perhaps?

I’m sorry.

Their voice in his head is a near-whisper, no louder than the hush of the water or the rustle of grasses.

The apology comes as no surprise. They have very little to apologize for, in his estimation, but they still feel that it is necessary—for more than the broken pieces in the dirt. They are thinking of every inconvenience, every disturbance of his routine, every time he stays behind to help them put themself back together. They have told him as much.

How can he convey that he would gladly give up far more? That it does not matter what they do—only that they are here with him?

The only thing he can think to do is to reach out. Slowly, waiting for their response. Waiting for any hint that they are not ready.

His palm meets theirs. Warmth against cold. Their fingers curl, lacing with his, and he breathes out, accepting their nearness, their trust, like a gift—for it is one.

The sun sinks. The meadow falls silent as shadows creep across the shore, as a mist begins to rise from the water. The air cools, heavy on his shell, carrying the sweet, damp scent of the riverbed.

What if it’s worse next time?

Grimm shifts. Looks over at them. They haven’t moved at all in the past half hour, stone-still in the river shallows. Thinking, always, always, in ways he cannot hear, wheels forever turning, as distant and steady as the rotation of the stars.

It’s no use promising things he can’t fulfill. God of Nightmare he may be, Fear incarnate—but in the mortal realm and in the Dream, he has his limits. Limits that he has grown comfortable with. Accustomed to. He keeps to his role, his place on the stage and behind it.

They have their own, he’s convinced of that. Their own element, their own realm of power, a rightful place among the gods of this world, no matter how long it’s been denied them. No matter how little they trust themself to take it.

He counts himself lucky that they trust him. That he is in a place to offer what they need. That there is enough left of them to be fully here with him.

What if.

What is he here for, after all, but to answer that question?

“When this river floods again, it will take this place with it,” he begins. “It has been many decades coming, yet much will still be lost. To negligence, to neglect. To misfortune and despair.” He pauses, strokes the side of their palm with his thumb. “This is… not the first time you have seen a kingdom fall. But it is your first chance to watch one fall gracefully.”

Their head dips downward, their gaze fixing on the water once more.

“And even knowing what is to come, I find it beautiful.” His voice lowers to a raspy hum. “Even knowing what I have come to do, I enjoy it here.”

Do you not tire of it?

“No.” Grimm shakes his head. “No, I do not. Do I tire of immortality? Of my lives in their endless cycle? Maybe. Sometimes.” A light squeeze to their hand, almost too light to feel. “Less so when those I love are near, to bear it with me.”

Hollow looks at their hand and his, at the spaces where they intersect. When they do not speak, he continues.

“No, I do not tire of my duty, my dear. The work that I do? I offer it willingly. I consider it a privilege. Who else gets to see what I do? Who else carries memories like mine?”

They sigh. He takes it as a concession, the way their shoulders slump, the tension draining out of them at last. With its release, he draws their hand up, lifting it to his mask, feeling their eyes follow its path in the gathering dusk.

“Even knowing that it will die, I choose to be its witness.” He tucks their fingers against his face, pressing a phantom kiss to their knuckles. “Every struggle. Every cry. Every fading moment, until it wakes anew.”

They huff again. It’s almost more of a sigh—acceptance of his words, a willingness to be convinced. Trusting him once more.

They lean forward, resting their horns against his, lightly. You’re very good at that.

Grimm hums again, roughly, pleased. With them. With himself, a little. The compliment does not go amiss.

They lean back, but do not draw away. It’s dark enough now that he can barely see their face. At the tents, there will be a fire starting, food cooking, laughter echoing across the meadow—he can almost hear it now, and he knows they are thinking of it too, when they glance back the way they came.

Will you take me home?

And they say he is good at it? When the simplest words take his breath away?

“Always, my dear.”

[lokiandbuckysdoll]

Hello my love!! Could I request a Winterfrost x reader where they are getting ready to propose but discover that reader was going to ask them first?

P.S. I LOVE YOU

~~~~~~~

Three Yes’s

Paring: Winterfrost x Reader 

Summary: A simple yes is all it takes. 

Wordcount: 1,682

Divider:@firefly-graphics

Warnings: slight angst if you squit, mixed emotions for a brief second, SMUT! And fluff!

A/N: I LOVE YOU MORE!!! AND UGH MY LOVE! I LOVE THIS!! Sorry, it took me forever to write this 😣 I hope you enjoy it!

~~~~~~~

Working with the avengers wasn’t easy for Bucky nor Loki, the job came with many ups and downs. In the end, the job was worth it as they met you, the “ sexiest dame to ever exist” according to Bucky, and to Loki, you were “ the most alluring and enchanting Midgardian”.

It took one glance at you for them to realize that you were the one missing piece in their chaotic lives.

Dr. Cho and Bruce had announced that they hired a new nurse to help around the medical bay. That’s when you were introduced. They were smitten with you from day one.

It didn't take long after you joined the team's medical facility for a beautiful friendship to blossom between the three of you. Slowly but surely you started getting involved in the team's activities more.

Movie nights, team dinners, and game nights. Anything that involved the team coming together you were there. The team grew to love you and treat you as family.

They loved how kind-hearted you were. If someone on the team had gotten seriously injured. You were there 24/7 in their recovery process.

You’d make sure they were comfortable, and go above and beyond the extra mile just to see them happy or have a smile on their face at the end of the day.

Your days were now often spent in the Medbay while the other half of it was spent hanging out with Loki and Bucky. The team soon started to notice how Loki and Bucky took a more likely to you.

Somewhere along the way though that friendship you three had turned into much more, it had a love that wasn’t friendly. You were the first one to notice you had these feelings towards the two men.

You were completely scared. You knew that Loki and Bucky were already in a relationship, and you respected and valued that. So you were just scared as to why now you all of a sudden had fallen in love with not one of them but both of them.

Little did you know at the same time they also felt something toward you. Their love has grown more and more to the point where they realized it was more than friendship love.

It only took one of Tony’s parties for you three to come out confessing the feelings you all held for each other. At first, you were taken aback because you didn't think they loved you like that.

You all chatted and understood the feelings you had for one another. A few days following the party you had your official first date. A few more dates ensure and they asked you to be a part of their relationship.

That’s how everything started from then on. There were a couple of ups and downs with them getting injured that left you worried, and a few baby disagreements here and there but nothing major. Everything was good.

This leads to now, you were celebrating your 2nd anniversary. Tony being the ever billionaire paid for a weekend getaway for the three of you to enjoy. Tonight you had all decided to go out for a nice romantic dinner.

The smell of the gourmet food hitting your nose satisfied your hunger. A smile laced your face, catching bucky’s attention.

“ I’d say your happier with the food than you are with us” he laughed. You shook your head while biting into the food. “Barnes let out queen eat in peace” Loki snickered.

“ The food is delicious” you paused to take a sip from your glass of red wine. “ you would know if you didn’t order a burger like usual” you smirk as Bucky places his hand over his heart “ Doll you have wounded me” he lead back to fake his death.

“God, I’m dating dorks” you laughed once more before turning your attention to Loki. “ How’s your meal my mischief?” Loki looks down at his already half-eaten steak. “ I find it appetizing although nothing tastes better than you” he smirked and leaned down to kiss you.

“ Loki!” you pulled back from the kiss. “ we are in public behave yourself” you pat his cheek before giving him a quick peck on his lips. "let's order something sweet then shall we?" they nodded agreement.

Loki flagged down the waiter and placed the order, you then excused yourself to the restroom. You freshen up and look in the mirror. Taking a deep breath you reach into your purse making sure your surprise was still there.

Nervousness slowly began to creep its way into you but you pushed it away. " You go this," you told yourself and with that, you walked out and headed back towards the table.

Once you reached the table you caught a glimpse of them whispering something to the waiter, when they saw you they quickly dismissed the waiter.

" Did I miss something?" you look between the two noting the atmosphere changed. Bucky was quick to respond, "Nothing the waiter just got the order wrong is all" he smiled. you simply nodded.

A few seconds of silence passed and you knew you should take this as the time to give your surprise. " So I know we're here celebrating a special day" you smiled at the both of them. "Indeed it is darling" Loki smiled fondly at you and bucky.

You were about to speak again but bucky scooted closer to you and began to talk. " Two years of being in love with you, with many more to come" he interlocked his hand with yours, " I am the happiest, most grateful, and luckiest person on the planet because of you." He brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed it.

Loki then interlocked your other free hand with his. " Thank you for being our life companion. I can’t imagine being with anyone else." he also brought the back of your hand to his lips as well. Before leaning in to kiss you, Loki took this sweet moment to distract you from bucky.

" Thank you so much for bringing such joy to our hearts" you turn back to bucky who was now kneeling on one knee. " Our life truly wouldn’t be the same without you two and all the happiness you ha-" bucky didn't get to finish as you stood up.

“ oh my god! Wait! you're proposing?” You asked with complete shock, you looked back to Loki he was also kneeling. However, he quickly stopped himself, their faces quickly change from happy to worried at your words before they could say anything you grabbed your purse and pulled out a box similar to theirs.

" I was going to propose as well!" you put your hands on your face shaking it while laughing. " You were!" they said in sync. " Yes, I can't believe this is happing all day" you laugh some more.

" Well, there goes our heartfelt words of love" Loki snickered. Just then the waiter came with the dessert with chocolate writing on the plate that said " Will you marry us?"

" Well, what do you say doll?" ask hopefully. " YES! Of course, I will, however, will you marry me?" you then go to kneel " Yes" they said in sync again. Loki was quick though to pull you up from the ground. " Our queen should never do any kneeling for us unless it is the confines of our bedroom" he then pulled you into a deep kiss.

Before you knew it desert was forgotten and you three were back at your hotel.

Your dress is now discarded among the many clothes that sprawl the floor and three orgasms later.

Bucky was pounding into you, he pulled one of your thighs over his shoulder and the other around his waist. " Fuck doll! You're squeezing me so good!". You moaned but it was muffled as Loki was deep down your throat.

" James switch with me now, I can't hold on much longer" he removed himself from your month. They were quick to move positions. Bucky pulled out of you, then moved to lay against the headboard. " Come to your Sargent doll" you quickly moved to be between his things.

You didn't need to be told what to do, you gave kitten licks to bucky's pink tip, before deep-throating him. You could feel Loki behind you.

He gave a harsh slap to your ass before he moved to insert himself. " Fuck you feel like Vahalla" he began to pound into you from behind. His pace slowly increased. His action causes you to bring Bucky more pleasure.

" Fuck I'm close" bucky began to buck his hips into your mouth. " Me too, I can feel you y/n, let go" as if on cue all three of you came.

You pulled bucky out of your mouth, and Loki slowly pulled out of you. Bucky moved and gently pulled you to lay on his chest, you rested your head on his chest trying to catch your breath.

Loki moved behind you and pulled the two of you closer. The three of you lay there in each other's embrace. After a while, you moved to lie on your back.

You lifted your left hand and admire the ring that now sat on your finger. " Cheers to our adventure going on forever. Here’s to many more years of laughter and love together," you spoke happily as moved and gave each of them a kiss.

" You stole our hearts darling, and we never want them back" Loki kissed your cheek. " You hold a special place in our hearts" bucky kissed the top of your head.

You playfully scoffed, " I better have a special place in your hearts or I'll take my rings I got you two back'' you smiled at their shocked faces.

" That's it round five right now!" with that, you three spent the night with more orgasms and peaceful sleep to follow.

~~~~~~~~

🏷️: @springdandelixn @hannibals-favourite-meal @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @sarahrogersevans @tomandcakes @hallecarey1 @caothicshit @missvelvetsstuff @huntressandlioness1 @nana1000night @lokisgoodgirl

[hautevaux]

@obscureign asked: 💋 MEME: SEND 💋 to abruptly kiss my muse

Golden were rays of late day sunshine, their infinite reach 'pon the concrete platform of the city itself gradually turning to shades of blush pinks and rich reds. The canvas of grey allowed for a beauteous contrast few could describe accurately, the poetic injustice written in books naught compared to the mere sight itself. Ever captivated, eyes void of their own colour took much interest and endless adoration in the smearing of the sunset before him; the view reminded him of early evenings spent doing naught more than awaiting the sights of the stars, as a sick youth back home.

So special had those moments become that even as his age grew and his location upon that planet changed, he always took great comfort in the cycle of the moon forever chasing the sun - and the coming possession provided by the stars.

Times like those, where he could sit in the small courtyard at the very back of the boutique and enjoy a hot cup of matcha tea, meant more than he could explain to another; the deeply personal connection he felt to the time of day and the visible sights one he couldn't entire explain even to himself. Perhaps it was the sense of company it had provided when he had naught else, perhaps it was the motivation to fight for another day when he was at his sickest, perhaps it was simply because it had been the only constant in a life of tumultuous ups and downs. He couldn't imagine another could understand…

How rediculous… To think that someone could see that the ever-present gnawing loneliness in Vaux's person had been soothed only by the sights of a cosmos he could never hope to reach for the majority of his life thus far… He'd never believe it possible.

Eyes closed, focus removed from the darkening skies of captivating twilight and, instead, moved to the simple heat of the glass in his hand. Very few things could bring Vaux a sense of true peace in the business of his existence, but that moment was near perfect. Quiet. Content. No sound of thrumming sewing machines nor the low hum of chattering clients - no maths for measurements, no stress over designs. Just peace. Just quiet. A little warmth, a little space.

Lips, parted enough to ease out the gentle sounds of a sigh, soon poised to allow the drawing in of a surprised gasp - quiet, unanticipated. How tender: the balmy pressing of a kiss to his upper cheekbone. Unexpected, somewhat unregistered for some fractions of a second, Vaux simply sits and breaths, nigh basking the warmth he feels encompass his expression.

Only once he has thickly swallowed does he turn to find company he hadn't heard approach to his side - evidently having straightened after bending to meet the cheekbone of a seated tailor - and further surprised was he to identify. Whether Vaux liked it or otherwise, his pale expression was now sporting a light flush not unlike that of the beginnings of the sunset sky and thus he chooses to dip his gaze back down once he has made his silent greeting.

"You caught me at quite the vulnerable time, darling--" He admits, voice low and calm - lacking it's usual eccentricity. This Vaux, the one that now sits and rests his tea down 'pon a small table, is far closer to the true being beneath the glitter and the makeup - a rare sight, a rare honor to behold.

The tips of fingers raise upward to brush the damp section of his cheek, the idle tingle beneath one he'd not felt in more years than he would care to admit. Brief though the smile was that drew across his lips, it was no less genuine for it.

"- if you've intentions to disarm me entirely by your charms, I'd say you were well on your way--" The flirtatious teasing returned but without the grandeur of his usual vivacity. No, Vaux this eve seems more genuine - calmed and contented in a strange way. The comfort of the sights before him did wonders of holding his fragmented pieces together, and one Rufus Shinra was simply lucky he was present while the tailor felt briefly whole.

[dramaticdads]

Something unlasting

Okay fine so maybe I ship Lark and Nick a little bit now. What’s it to you?

Pairing(s): Nick/Lark, Cassandra/Nick (not the focus)

Word count: 1960

CW: Implied sex but not mentioned or described, unresolved tensions, unhappy ending

Summary: There’s something between Lark and Nick they both refuse to name.

It started off back when they were still young. Back when their fathers were still in charge of the fight, and they all still spoke to each other every once in a while. Back when Lark and Nick went to parties together and kissed in backrooms where no one paid much attention to them.

It was inevitable, perhaps, for them to feel drawn to one another. There were few people left to connect with after a childhood trip to a fantasy world, and when one of you ended that trip as part-demon in hell. Nick might’ve felt the need to hold on to something human, and Lark might’ve felt the need to hold on to something infernal. Regardless of the reason, they often entered each other’s orbit, uninvited but not unwelcome.

Nick found himself enjoying the way Lark pulled Nick closer insistently, his grip always a little tighter than necessary, and his hair somehow both softer and messier than one would expect.

Lark found himself enjoying the comforting warmth of Nick’s human form that occasionally varied in force, enough to challenge Lark’s constitution, and the way Nick’s eyes glowed like embers.

It was infrequent for them to get so close of course, but it happened on occasion. First, when they were both too drunk to think clearly and they simply did it without acknowledging it much the day that followed. Then, when they started sending each other brief glances, that soon turned into occasional meetings in cheap hotel rooms.

“How come you never invite me to your place?” Nick had jokingly asked one time, when they were both lying next to each other on the bed.

“How come you never invite me to yours?” Lark asked, with the faintest hint of a smile.

“Eh, you know how it is,” Nick smiled back, “Hell and all. There’s too much noise down there, I doubt you want Jodie or Glenn to pry, and I’m not even sure you can genuinely survive down there for long.”

“I’m a survivor,” Lark said with the sort of wink that made Nick’s heartrate increase ever so slightly.

“But why can’t I come to yours?”

“Sparrow’s there.” Was all Lark responded with, as if that was explanation enough. It was, in a sense. Not that Sparrow couldn’t simply leave for the night or ignore the guest in Lark’s room completely. Sparrow was nothing if not respectful. Yet Lark always felt like everything Sparrow was told became so much more real and tangible than things Lark simply allowed the implicit existence of. Sparrow already knew something was going on between Lark and Nick, but Lark did not intend to have an awkward exchange with his brother, that would indicate this was something lasting.

And Nick dropped the topic quickly. It wasn’t as if he’d expected a different outcome. He enjoyed remaining as they were anyhow. In truth, lying next to Lark like that and hearing his peaceful breathing when he fell asleep, was better than most highs he’d experienced. He wasn’t sure if that was the sort of thought he should say out loud.

The older they became the more frustrating it was that they were not allowed to participate in fighting off the incursions everyone pretended they didn’t take note of at all. Lark especially had too much fight in him to contain, practicing all sorts of fighting techniques and working on tools in his and Sparrow’s apartment.

Nick sometimes remembered that Lark was the one who released the Doodler in the first place. He did not know what to make of that, wanted to ask for details, but he did not have the right to.

“Why did you do it?” he’d asked anyway, when he felt as if both of them were in a decently vulnerable position.

Lark got a distant look in his eyes, because he wasn’t even certain he fully knew why himself. He’d wanted to understand the world, wanted his brother to stop looking at him so sadly, wanted to complete a cosmic task for reasons beyond his comprehension and beyond his control. “I was a kid,” was all he replied, and cut off Nick’s next question with a kiss.

Nick’s warmth was sometimes comforting. Like being tucked underneath a warm blanket, held close and cared for, not that Lark particularly needed it. When Nick’s heartrate was high enough, the warmth would intensify and Lark would feel as if he was playing with fire, fighting back into the kisses as if it was a test of endurance. He liked that, sometimes. Needed that, even if he’d never admit to it.

Things were changing around both of them. Sparrow started having a girlfriend over, something Lark had found it difficult to imagine prior. A girlfriend who didn’t look anything like Lark had expected Sparrow’s future partner to look like, and in complete honesty, Lark had not been able to imagine Sparrow having a partner at all. And yet that was the way things went, and it seemed Sparrow was going for something more permanent, than what Lark would ever have dared to go for.

“I’m never going to have something like that,” Lark had mumbled, sitting up against a wall in the bed with Nick next to him. Lying down entirely during the exchange seemed much too personal, and he half-considered pulling out a cigarette for it to be easier to appear calmer.

Nick looked at him, as if he was trying to figure him out, an expression Lark couldn’t bring himself to feel comfortable in regardless of the context. “Why don’t you think that?” he’d asked.

“It’s not my style,” Lark replied with a nonchalant shrug, “Not worth it to get attached when the world is ending anyway.” He added, somewhat light-hearted but quiet, nonetheless.

“I suppose not.” Nick confirmed, though he felt something in his gut that was difficult to place at the words, that hadn’t entirely dissolved by the time he was alone in his bedroom in hell.

Perhaps it was ironic that Nick found a girlfriend himself just about a week later. Cassandra was gorgeous in all sorts of ways and Nick liked her soft skin and kissing her while holding her close. It was unexpected to meet her, really. Unexpected when she learned his secrets and became more than just a brief fling. When months later she became pregnant, and marriage was suddenly in the cards.

And maybe it wasn’t a future he was fully certain of, and maybe it wasn’t one Cassandra was certain of either, but Nick found that deep within himself there was some desire to be a father. Some desire to watch a kid grow up and be there for them. Some desire to come into his own too, because as of yet he was still not certain who Nick Close or Nick Foster had been, and what combination of either he had ended up becoming.

It seemed Cassandra too, wanted to be a mother. Would be good at it too. She knew more about it than Nick ever would, he felt, because his childhood had been just a little too strange for him to feel like he could be a flawless parent on his own. (But he would try, if push came to shove. He would learn everything he needed, because he had good dads and a good mom and he could figure it out regardless of the circumstances, he told himself.)

Lark had kept his distance, ever since Nick started going out with Cassandra. Politeness, most likely. Unsure what boundaries were set in place. Lark and Nick had never discussed their arrangement in detail, simply letting the encounters happen as they did, and maybe that was unfortunate now, since it meant some discussion would need to be had for Lark to stop keeping his distance entirely. Nick missed the way Lark knew exactly where to kiss him. Lark missed the warmth, and Nick’s playful smiles directed just at him (but he didn’t need either of those things, he did just fine without them, because needing someone else was a weakness Lark was far too aware of)

Nick would tell Lark that he and Cassandra had always agreed that their relationship was open. That it wasn’t an exclusive thing, even though they were talking about getting married and were due to have a kid. But bringing it up to Lark made it seem so much more permanent. Perhaps Nick should’ve taken a step back and asked before he kissed Lark again, but he’d simply approached him as he used to one day and cupped his cheek, and Lark had leaned into it without any request for clarification.

They met outside at night sometimes too, Nick lighting Lark’s cigarette daringly, the two kissing when no one was looking. Nick’s eyes seemed to glow ever so slightly in the dark, though Lark wasn’t sure if that was because Nick was a demon or other reasons that were less logical to place. Nick loved the way Lark’s stubble brushed against his cheeks.

Nick had a son. A beautiful son him and Cassandra named Taylor, and Nick felt pride and love in his heart as he saw the little boy. It was going to be okay, he thought to himself. They’d figure it out, even with the complicated mix of worlds this kid would have to grow up in.

Sparrow had kids, and Lark was around to meet them. More people to protect from the unleashed god. He continued training by himself, because the world was only going to move faster from now on.

Lark wished he hadn’t been right about that, because soon enough their fathers were out of the picture, and they became the ones who led the fight. Lark’s beard grew just a little more, and he noticed that his brother’s shoulders never quite seemed to untense. Nick’s goofy smiles became less apparent on a regular day. Lark watched Nick in his full demon form, his rage translating into a scolding sort of heat that made Lark want to draw closer. Nick watched as Lark shot effortlessly at the enemy with a dark and determined look in his eyes.

Cassandra sometimes asked about Lark, because even if Nick had never said it out loud it wasn’t as if she was unaware of the something between them. “It’s nothing serious.” Nick just said, because it couldn’t be. It wouldn’t be, because it wasn’t going to be something lasting unless a word for it was spoken out loud, and most of the time the pair preferred not to speak much at all. It was better that way. There was little time for words in the midst of battle, or in-between subtle touches, tight grips, and soft kisses.

It wasn’t lasting, and Nick would eventually be glad he never latched on to the idea that it would be.

New threats appeared; tensions grew. The world was crumbling, as if Nick was the one who set it on fire. And maybe he should’ve seen it coming. Maybe he would’ve been able to stop it if he hadn’t turned a blind eye to the so-called solutions that would cost him his life and his entire world.

Maybe then it would’ve surprised him less, hurt less, when the others pulled out the gun and Nick’s heart stopped as the cold spread from his arm to his bones in a matter of seconds.

Maybe it would’ve hurt less when Lark grabbed him by the hand for a moment, with that tight hold he always had, and Nick would’ve been able to fight back instead of quietly withdrawing his hand.

And maybe Lark wouldn’t have felt the cold from the removal of said hand more powerfully than any other sensation in the world.

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of July. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Jealousy, Jealousy | Not Rated | 1163 words 

Harry gets jealous when James Corden hold his Louis in his lap and pets him on the Late Late Show. He shows Louis who he belongs to and takes care of him.

2) The X-Factor Judge | Explicit | 1635 words 

Harry watches the X-Factor and gets jealous about Brendan jumping on Louis. When Louis gets home Harry reminds him whom he belongs to. 

3) Didn’t Know You Had It In You | Explicit | 1807 words 

Harry sleeptalks and reveals his kinks which Louis is more than happy to try out.

4) Mine | Explicit | 1979 words 

"So you been single for a while now?" Louis gulped as the vibrator slowed down sending a thankful look to Harry before glancing back at the interview who was looking at him with great interest,

"Uhhh yeah," he replied keeping his answer short and brief. He straightened his back shuffling slightly on his chair as the vibrator shifted inside of him hitting his prostate causing him to let out a small gasp as grimaced at the interviewer who just grinned back. She must be an excellent actress or just stupidly oblivious.

5) In The Moment | Explicit | 2611 words 

Note: This is part 2 of this series.

Where it's their first time and Harry is being all fluffy and encouraging Louis to say his name and other dirty stuff?

6) Salvation Under My Breath | Not Rated | 2858 words 

Louis is pregnant...

...and Horny

7) The Sight of You Brings Forth a Peace In Me | Mature | 3254 words

Louis loses inspiration and goes on a nature walk to find some. The inspiration takes shape in the form of Harry. 

8) Put Your Sweet Lips On My Lips | Explicit | 3435 words 

Note: Part one of this fic is #23 on this list. 

Adjusting to one another’s life came as naturally as the sun rising in the morning and brightening the sky, chasing away the darkness that had dared to lurk in its absence. They did not side step each other, did not second guess their instincts once they were finally together. It was the crash of roaring waves - reckless in their paths - but upon meeting had unified into calm waters in the vast sea.

Living with Harry was like a breath of fresh air. In all his years, Louis had never felt alive. He supposed there was some credit to be given to how devoted Harry was to him. The man would rather step in a raging fire than let him suffer even a trace amount of agony.

9) Fuck U (Even) Betta | Explicit | 3568 words 

Note: This is the sequel to this fic.

Harry had sensed Louis was getting antsy all day, prodding and poking at Harry’s psyche like a game of mental whack-a-mole, trying to find that one thing that would flip the switch and push Harry over the edge. Even after all these years Louis still thinks he can get a rise, that he can in any way control the scenario. He couldn’t be more wrong.

10) We Act Like Nothing Is Wrong To Avoid What’s In Front of Us | Mature | 4179 words 

Louis sends nudes meant for Harry to the wrong person on accident. Harry finds out. Rough sex ensues.

11) Love's First Bite | Explicit | 6135 words 

Note: The pairing in this fic is Louis/Zayn.

For Zayn, love was never a part of life’s equation, not when you’re considered a lowly vampire while working in the Vampire’s royalty club, Love’s First Bite. He’s bitter and resentful and sees no point in looking into his past or future. But when Zayn saves a human named Louis, it all changes. He finds something special in him and, more importantly, someone worth giving up everything he holds dear.

12) Your Blueberry Eyes | Mature | 6154 words 

Louis tattoos and Harry falls for blues.

13) Blow Me Away | Explicit | 6471 words 

Louis likes giving blow jobs.

He doesn't exactly get off on it – he's been with people who properly loved it, and he's not quite that into it – but he doesn't mind the feel or the taste and he really, really likes watching his partner lose it, so getting down on his knees regularly is a no brainer.

Which is why it's a bit frustrating that every time he does, Liam hauls him back up again.

14) Thank You For This Prom Night | Not Rated | 6554 words 

Note: This is part 3 of this series.

It's Prom Night. Stuff happens.

15) Can We Make It Anymore Obvious? | Explicit | 6628 words 

Five times the boys accidentally walked in on Harry & Louis plus one time they did it on purpose.

16) It's The Way You Love (I Gotta Give It Back To You) | Explicit | 8153 words 

Stretching, Louis finally pulled the duvet aside and let his feet fall onto the plush rug at his feet. Louis lived for soft, comfortable, plush things. From the fairy lights and fake plants to his plush robe and thick socks, everything in Louis’ little one bedroom apartment was carefully catered to his whimsical and soft aesthetic.

17) My Eyes Want You More Than A Melody | Explicit | 8315 words 

Harry’s brain is short-circuiting at an absolutely awful time, the more expressive side of him is falling to pieces for some reason. The only responses he can give are venerated vibrations and nods, the feeling of Louis’ sweaty skin sliping him further into nothingness. Lightly dewy thighs, so muscular and plush— his lips feel just the same, so dangerously soft, a devious intention lying behind it all. “You’d do anything for me,” Louis mumbles, teeth tugging on Harry’s bottom lip, eyes dragging from his sinfully pink mouth when he lets it go to his hooded green eyes. “Isn't that right, daddy?” Harry whimpers— something that’s so foreign to him— but nods, trailing his hands up his shaved thighs, fingertips passing the hem of the dress.

18) Running Is Different Than Going | Explicit | 9018 words 

Note: The pairing is Louis/OMC.

On the run, the last thing Michael expects from a stranger is help. Louis offers him everything he needs so he can keep running, but makes it harder than ever to continue doing so.

19) Quarantine, Baby! | Teen & Up | 9615 words 

Note: There is no smut, but it contains mpreg Louis, so we’ve included it in this monthly roundup. 

When Harry and Louis get a little too bored in quarantine, they turn to each other for some x-rated entertainment. Then, what starts as a COVID-scare, turns out to be something completely different.

20) Effervescent Horizons | Not Rated | 10676 words 

Note: This is part 6 of this series. There is also no smut, but it contains mentions of bottom Louis, so we’ve included it in this monthly roundup. 

They go to college together!

21) Moments | Explicit | 10726 words 

Looking back, Louis should’ve known that the universe likes to fuck with idiots like him who think they’ve got it all sorted.

Looking back, he should’ve known that the minute he relaxed and let his guard down, when he thought things were going smoothly, that’s when it would hit him.

Looking back, he should’ve known to be on the lookout for a curveball.

He just hadn’t accounted for that curveball to have long legs, green eyes, and dimples; a curveball named Harry Styles.

22) The Blood Is Rare (And Sweet As Cherry Wine) | Explicit | 14270 words 

Note: The sequel to this fic is #8 on this list. 

"Officer, I see you're giving away my secrets already," Harry said as he entered the room.

"It's hardly a secret," Louis accepted the delicate glass, cutting a glance at the man when the underlying scent hit him, "A little early to indulge in such things, isn't it?"

"You've had a long morning, I'm sure. Merely looking after your health, Officer," Harry smiled.

"You don't need to concern yourself with that."

"Someone has to."

23) Violent Delights | Not Rated | 76174 words 

Prince Harry is arranged to mate Princess Charlotte, but first he must spend a month completing courting traditions which ends in a mating ceremony. When he arrives to the Tomlinson castle, he finds the forbidden North wing holds that which the family has worked hard to keep secret. Mainly: the sickly sweet Prince Louis, who’s rare gender has forced his family to keep him locked away for his own protection.

24) Truth Behind Golden Eyes | Explicit | 228727 words 

Louis is a royal servant born with magic in a kingdom where his sole existence is outlawed with a war he has no idea he has a part in upon him. Harry is the prince on whom the burden of mending a broken kingdom falls upon and he might be willing to risk it all for a simple servant if only he admitted it to himself.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[mandareeboo]

SU Music Rankings

Bc I can and I wanna start some Disk Horse rip. These are all in order of preference, with explanations, etc. It’s a long bitch. That said, I’m not counting little short jingles or small joke songs like Little Butler. This is the meat and potatoes of SU music- just under 30 songs. I might do the rest if people like my takes lol.

I scored it mostly on three bases- how dear it was to my heart, how much/often I relisten to it, and also what it means to the plot. That said, little fun songs don’t automatically go farther down than big, plot-heavy songs either! It’s a strange little balance.

Special Note: I don’t dislike any of this music! I love SU and that includes its bumps and glitches. I just pick favorite children lol.

1.) Change

Was there ever a more Steven moment than when he wiped the blood off his face and kissed it into sparkles? I think not. 

If “Be Wherever You Are” is an ode to young Steven, then this is teen Steven’s. Talking about change, and how much and how little it can do. How he holds his arms up for Spinel to hug him, so trusting. How he seems able to just. Break into soft tears at will, and not to be manipulative- it’s just his kind nature. The warmth in his voice. Fuck yesssss.

2.) Change Your Mind

This song is only fifty five seconds and it’s EVERYTHING to me. It really felt like someone was speaking the words I’d always held deep inside of me, unsure of how to say. It feels like a goodbye to someone who never really loved me. 

As much as I enjoyed Future, if this was the finale of SU, I would’ve been perfectly okay with that.

3.) Drift Away

This song gave me legitimate shivers the first time I heard it, and it still haunts me to this day. Spinel stayed, and waited, and all she got was a transmission thousands of years later. Fuck.

4.) Here We Are In The Future

THE MOVIE IS SU AS ITS BEST AND I WON’T BE SWAYED ON IT. Steven being a teen who loves his weird family but is growing just a bit sarcastic to their drama. The adorable love he and Connie share. His slow realization that he will always be working, always have things to do, is both somber and real. The Crystal Gems won’t be safe with one epic battle. They’ll be safe with years of hard work and love. HIS LITTLE HANDSHAKE WITH AMETHYST.

This is a helluva bop and a great way to summarize the main character’s backstories.

5.) Let’s Only Think About Love

Did ya’ll know that Zach Callison killed his throat with that last note? He gave his all for this performance in a vocal range he no longer comfortably do and by god did it SHINE. The FLAIR. The FORESHADOWING. All of the Gems all being awkward about Rose and Steven trying to bring them to the present. Peridot having a mini-existential crisis in a cute yellow dress. I love Zach Callison’s normal singing voice but man is that a fucking bop. Nothing will ever beat it.

6.) Here Comes A Thought

This bad boy helped me out a LOT with some mental issues I was dealing with in high school. I was unmedicated, unsupervised, and full of anxiety. I’d have break downs when I tried to speak about certain things. I couldn’t function. This song inspired me. It helped me feel okay with my intrusive thoughts.

And the episode! -chef’s kiss-. Once again bringing up the morally gray area of training child soldiers. Connie expanding her social group. Steven’s trauma hauling ass in that second half. The ANIMATION. Stevonnie’s gorgeous singing voice. GOD yes.

7.) It’s Over Isn’t It?

Just barely squeaking above Stronger Than You, this ballad is everything gorgeous. The whole episode is. I think Mr. Greg stands in the top five of my episodes for the entire show. It even got nominated!

There’s just so much about this song that I love. The gentle melancholy of Pearl’s voice. How the crew had to redo the shots for this bit bc Deedee went so fucking hard. The hard cuts between Pearl, remembering the love of her life, and Steven, who has begun to feel like he took her away. I’d recommend this song to anyone, regardless of what they do or don’t know about SU, simply bc it tugs so many heartstrings of love, loss, and responsibility.

8.) Stronger Than You

Did you realize this episode aired SEVEN years ago? This bitch was what got me into SU! Hearing about Ruby and Sapphire made my little gay heart so happy inside, and then getting a whole song confirming that they were a couple, that their love powered the strongest Gem on the team? Aaaaaaaaa

To this DAY I get excited when I hear Estelle start singing. This song is timeless. This song will live in media history. God I fucking love this song.

9.) Other Friends

I’m not the biggest musical person, so I hadn’t heard of Sarah Stiles before her casting as Spinel, but JESUS CHRIST the lady went hard. She went SO fucking hard. Sarah Stiles started on 100 and somehow just kept CLIMBING. You can just hear the sheer manic energy building in her voice, the anger and resentment. 10/10 Sarah Stiles is a queen.

10.) Independent Together

This made the list entirely bc the crew was like “you’re gonna get a himbo ass Steven-Greg fusion singing with Opal while Garnet flies across the moon on Lion while floating” and I am forever thankful to them for it

11.) Who We Are

Bismuth deserved more songs. ‘Nuff said.

12.) Peace and Love (On the Planet Earth)

It Could’ve been Great is EASILY one of my favorite s2 episodes. I love the entire concept of this song. Of Steven making music to reflect how much Earth means to him and his family. Of him teaching Peridot some self-care. Also Peridot’s singing voice is really cute and squeaky. 

I know it’s silly, but I would’ve really enjoyed a flip around of this in Future! Like Peridot reminding Steven how much he loves music, that he needs to take time to relax for himself, maybe with a new verse or just a remix of the original song!

13.) Something Entirely New

I watched this episode as it aired, and I legitimately almost cried. I love Charlyne Yi’s voice so much ya’ll- her raspy, not perfect singing voice against Sapphire’s deep soothing lull is great.

And to have Ruby and Sapphire’s meeting be the way it was- for Ruby to bemoan Sapphire losing Homeworld, to being stuck with a single Ruby, while Sapphire is a noble who has always been taught everyone in her “caste” is vitally important (and has, in her own mind, taken that to mean every Gem, as she should) and how they come together and make each other happy. Good shit good shit.

14.) I’m Just a Comet

The fact that Greg’s music career never really blasted off pisses me off to this day bc Tom Scharpling’s voice is fucking BUTTER. Also the song really feels like a jab at his parents now that we know the kind of dynamic he had growing up. “This life in the stars if all I’ve ever known” is definitely him wiping away their existence after reminding them (and himself) the things they used to say about him.

15.) Do It For Her

This episode. This fucking episode. This episode got me permanently hooked on SU. I’d just binged season 1 and was kinda meh about it overall after the bop of Stronger Than You. “Oh,” I thought to myself, foolishly, “I’ll probably just casually watch this from time to time.”

Like three days later Sworn to the Sword aired and that was it. I was hooked! Pearl’s gentle training song turning darker and darker, Connie’s accompaniment from nervous to determined to fully into such a toxic mindset. The fact that SU had the BALLS to discuss the repercussions of training child soldiers, now and later. This episode was everything to me, STILL is everything to me.

Six years and well over 100 fanfics written later, I think it’s safe to say this show swallowed me whole and never let go.

16.) System/Boot.pearl_final(3)

I debated putting this on the list because it’s not anything crazy important, just a way to show things are Wrong, but I had to do it entirely bc Pearl is so damn SALTY.

Like telling us about the Gems makes sense, she felt like she was given a duty, but she went so damn petty. WHY is that Ruby alone. Gross. This Amethyst is a trash dump. Wtf are you people.

17.) Full Disclosure

This episode really feels like a turning point for SU. Before, the show had its dark moments- but now we’re in the thick of it, and it’s not going away. Full Disclosure felt like an rebuff to the idea of returning to any normal we’d established in season 1. Gems are actually a giant species now. Gems tried to kill us now. There’s this Yellow Diamond bitch who got namedropped. Something about a Cluster. 

The song itself is BALLER, with its ingenious use of Steven’s ringtone and photos as he tries to decide whether to clue in Connie on all this nonsense. Meanwhile we, the audience, already know damn well Connie about to yeet some common sense into him.

18.) What’s the Use of Feeling Blue?

I’mma admit it- I’m a Yellow Diamond stan. I’ve always loved her- her anger, her poise, her hardworking nature. I actively argued against the “Yellow Shattered Pink” theories back in the day. But, man, when this arc leaked? I got so overexcited I was too jittery to watch it for like two days. It’s easily my favorite arc of the series. The sheer alien nature of the zoo, the Famethyst, and absolutely Patti Lupone’s beautiful ballad. Goddamn. Yellow singing to Blue to try and help her regain her old status, the warble in her voice as she reminds Blue she misses Pink too, the movement of the bubbles as she talks about attack. It gives me shivers to this day. FUCK.

19.) Tower of Mistakes

This is, fun fact, that only SU song I have completely memorized. The story itself is kinda funny! See, we lost internet at my house for a solid 5 to 6 months when these episodes aired, so I only got a very brief window to view them all. But this was the first Amethyst song in a long while, and I didn’t want to forget it! So I keep replaying it in my head for ages. And that’s still definitely a thing.

Anyway will never not be sad that this entire song was about making it up to Garnet for Amethyst’s perceived slights with Sugilite (which was a two-way road), only for Garnet to pressure her into fusion later when pissed and never discuss it again bc Garnet probably never thought twice about it and Amethyst has the emotional openness of a clam that’s just been told its ugly. Helluva way to make someone feel like shit, G. Helluva way to bottle that shit, Ames.

20.) On the Run

I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times: Amethyst! Needed! More! Songs! 

The dichotomy between Steven’s play and Amethyst’s honest desire to run away from home is so well-done, especially when you consider a lot of Steven and Amethyst’s actions are playing together. The song is also near and dear to me simply bc it’s my favorite Amethyst episode to exist (well, maybe second to What’s Your Problem, but not by much). Moments like these are all the proof I need that they were right to fuse first.

21.) Be Wherever You Are

This tune really just feels like an ode to who Steven was as a kid. Trapped on an island with no way home, and he’s just happy to be with his friends. The stars are beautiful and not oppressive. Also that one animatic with Lars and the Off Colors playing in the Homeworld Kindergarten to this music was iconic and made this song get stuck in my head for a solid month.

22.) Familiar

I ADORE how the crew use bright neon colors to show how alien Homeworld can be. And Steven recognizing that the Diamonds treat him how the CGs used to, and how prepared he is to “fix” a broken family. It’s a soft, gentle tune about melancholy. Also the Pebbles are beautiful.

23.) Let Me Drive My Van Into Your Heart

Such a cute little love ballad, but every time I listen to it now I just imagine the heart attack Rose must’ve had at the line “And if we look out of place/Well, baby, that's okay/I'll drive us into outer space.” like there’s a Vietnam war flashback if I ever heard one

24.) What Can I Do?

I’m kind of neutral on this one? Rose and Greg both have great voices, but the song itself lacks many lyrics. I think it was definitely a good way to show Rose’s flaws in thinking.

Also, I’m shocked they managed cram that much vaguely sexual innuendo into two minutes, followed by how Not Hetereo that dance between Rose and Pearl was, and not get their asses chewed by it. You go guys.

25.) Cookie Cat

I love a lot of the vibes this song has. The lyrics are so damn prophetic, but they also sound like the kind of weird 90s commercials I grew up on. It’s been like two decades since I saw the Shirley Temple commercial but I’ll be damned if I don’t remember “Animals crackers in my soup! Monkey and rabbits loop-de-loop.”

26.) Giant Woman

I am. NOT the biggest fan of Steven’s original singing voice. I feel bad saying that, since it was just Zach Callison as a kid, but he never jived well with me for some reason. So I wouldn’t listen to this on the fly. 

The song itself is still really good though, with all sorts of fun animation of Amethyst and Pearl being bitchy to each other. It’s a bit sad in hindsight to see tiny Steven trying to get his moms to get along. Ahh, season 1.

27.) Strong in the Real Way

This song has SUCH a strong start. Pearl reflecting on Sugilite’s problems, but the show making sure to show us that Pearl’s lack of enthusiasm towards her also lends itself to jealousy as well as just general malaise. How much she cares about Steven, and wants him to grow up strong. 

And then Steven just kinda. Ruins it? I appreciate his enthusiasm for tryna bulk up but to take what was starting as such a rich, personal song and broadcasting it to random strangers just makes me a bit sad. Almost a bit angry on her behalf?

28.) That Distant Shore

I KNOW this is gonna create some discourse, but I’m just not the biggest Lapis stan. I love her voice. I love the visuals of the song. And I get why she felt afraid and needed to flee.

But Lapis never got to take responsibility for her own actions. And, in the end, the song feels hollow to me- because we all know she’ll never talk to anyone about it, know she’ll burst back in and destroy the barn, and no one will ever question it. I like Lapis a lot, but I feel like her arc never was fully finished. She never got help. She never learned to feel safe.

29.) Dear Old Dad

I’ve yet to meet a single human being who likes this episode tbh. There’s some great discussion about what kind of parent Greg is from it, and what kind of dynamic he has with the Gems that he felt he had to fake an injury to hang out with his son. Honestly the first half was fine and dandy. It’s just that then they Greg just went out of his way to drag Steven away from missions and such. It never jived well with his character before or after.

Also, is it just me, or does Zach himself sound like he hates the song as he sings it? There’s no passion or heart in his voice. It sounds like they told him to read off cue cards and he did. Tom Scharpling’s best attempts didn’t save this one for being a skipper. But the episode, unfortunately, isn’t, so it gets a spot on here.

[honeybunnybeez]

Headed to where home is

♡Genre: A little angst with fluff

♡Au Setting: Dad!Schlatt AU, AU where the war doesn't exist but tensions are still high and relationships are rather strained.

♡Tubbo x Parental!GN!reader (with Tommy and Ranboo x Parental!GN!reader sprinkled in) (PLATONIC)

♡Format: Fanfiction

♡Summary: Sometimes there are days where things at home make Tubbo feel uncomfortable and unsafe, when those days come he's quick to walk over to your place. Today is one of those days.

♡WARNING: Alcoholic parent! Read more placed in case this is triggering to some.

The sound of glass shattering and cursing has Tubbo waking up in an instant. He can hear two voices yelling at each other, his father's and a random woman's, it's one of those nights again he supposes. He reaches for the clock resting on his bedside table, it's one in the morning.

Would you even be awake at this hour? Probably not, so Tubbo tries his best to fall back asleep as the arguing continues.

Tick tock

Tick tock

Tick tock

Tick-

Another glass is heard, shattering hard against a wall and Tubbo decides that yup, he's going over to your place. He'll break a window to get in if he has to, surely he knows you'll understand, he just... has to get away for a while.

He has a backpack filled with things he needs for his short trip over to your place. He's done this many times before, he just hasn't done it this late at night before. Vines lay waiting outside of his windows, his father never noticing how easy it is for him to slip away thanks to how drunk he always is when coming home from work. After landing on safe ground once more, he takes his time on his trip over to your place, sword out and communicator on stand by in case something goes south.

It was 1:30 by the time he left and 2:15 by the time he arrived, he was exhausted sure, but at least he felt safe and at peace away from where he was supposed to call home. Your cabin was just a few meters away and he was quick to jog on over as fast as his tired legs could muster.

Knock knock knock

No answer just yet.

Knock knock knock

Huh, you must really be asleep, well, it is past 2 am. He glances over to the window by the door, he doesn't really want to break in but if he has to then...

Knock knock knock

"(Y/n), please open up the door," he pleads quietly to himself.

Knock knock-

The door opens up much to his genuine surprised, however it isn't you who answers, but Tommy.

"Tubbo? What are you doing here so late at night?" Tommy asks while rubbing his eyes tiredly, behind him he can see you start to walk over, looking just as tired as Tommy but with worry apparent in your eyes.

"I'm sorry, (y/n), for visiting so late but can I stay here for the night? It uh, another woman's around again and-" you stop him before he could say another word, quickly ushering him inside.

"Hey, it's okay, you don't have to explain it if you don't want to," he feels relief wash over him at your words, thankful you aren't mad at him and that he doesn't have to explain himself. It just gets tiring and embarassing to mention what your dad is did that made you want to run away so badly.

"Tommy, bring Tubbo over to the living room, I'm gonna get extra blankets for him," Tommy simply yawns loudly as a reply and drags Tubbo by the hand over to the living room where a few thick comforters are already placed down for them to lay their sleeping bags on. In a corner, Tubbo can see Ranboo snoring away with an eye mask covering his eyes, the sight is rather funny with the silly design on the mask.

"Any idea why Ranboo came over?" Tubbo asks while Tommy crawls back into his sleeping bag.

"No idea, he got here before me, (y/n) told me not to wake him up either," once Tommy gets comfortable again, he aggressively pats the large empty spot beside him. "Sleeping bag, here, now, there's space. You're sleeping here."

Tubbo rolls his eyes but gets his sleeping bag out anyways, placing it where Tommy wants him to, "So clingy."

"Shut up," but there's no bite in Tommy's words as he slowly drifts back off to sleep.

You come back a while later, holding a few stacks of blankets for Tubbo and the others in case it got too cold for them later on in the early morning.

"You need anything else, Tubbo? A drink, maybe?" He shakes his head, he doesn't want to trouble you anymore than he already has and he knows where everything is if he ever did need something.

"It's okay, (y/n), thank you," you nod and get ready to head back upstairs to your bedroom but before you can do so, Tubbo calls out your name. "Wait, there is one thing..."

You can only cock your head a little to the side, confused until you feel Tubbo wrap his arms around you, hugging you tight. It takes you a while to react, still a little sleepy, but you return his gesture back with no problem, hugging him just as tight.

"...Thank you, (y/n)..."

When he pulls away you lazily ruffle his hair a bit, smiling as you do so, "Hey, you never have to thank me for things like these, I just want you three feel safe."

Safe, yeah, he feels safe here, much safer than back at his father's place. Tommy, Ranboo and you are here to make him feel like everything's going to be okay and everything does feel okay.

"You sleep well, alright? I'll be up in my room if you ever need me," Tubbo nods and thanks you once more before heading over to where the other boys are. As he crawls into his sleeping bag he notices how quiet everything is besides Tommy's brief mumblings and Ranboo's snoring, it's the kind of quiet that feels familiar to him and helps him relax. He feels his eyes start to droop as he gets drowsier and drowsier with each passing second, he finally feels like its safe enough to sleep.

Finally, he's home.

A/N: Hello! I'm sorry for writing this little fic, I was having incredible writer's block and needed some sort of hurt comfort. This is based off one of the headcanons I wrote involving a parental reader. Definitely not one of my best works but I still hope you all enjoyed reading it!

(Requests are open and anon is on!)

[elysiadjarin]

Sword and Shield 5

Tags: Bad Batch x reader (you), fem!coded, poly!relationship, multi-part series, nonhuman!reader, Echo later on

Part 4: https://elysiadjarin.tumblr.com/post/654625612928008192/sword-and-shield-4

Warnings: mentions of rough past, abuse, slavery, brief harassment.

5: Revelations

It had been months and several missions of varying success before you finally circled your way back to Coruscant and the GAR. Hunter had said that you’d needed to check back in with Commander Rex, hence the beeline he’d made for the GAR.

You’d wanted to ask if you could go say hi to the 501st, but you’d bit your tongue against the request. You didn’t know, after all, whether he had some other plan. You didn’t want to seem like you didn’t enjoy working with the Bad Batch. You did. A lot, in fact.

Your mind wandered a little as you fiddled with the strap of your bag, waiting to land and meet the Commander. You’d probably have to report to him about your integration into the team. Commander Rex had recommended it, after all, and you’d been trying your best to live up to the honor of his recommendation and try to work hard to integrate and be useful to the team.

You’d hoped, after so many missions, that you’d at least done his recommendation some justice. Commander Rex had been very kind to you, considering your past. Kind, and generous. Everyone in the 501st had. Especially after Lola Sayu.

“Shiv. Shiv.”

Your head snapped up. “Sorry!” you squeaked, shaken out of your train of thought.

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “No problem, just wanted to make sure you were ready.”

You nodded. “Yes, of course.” Slinging the bag around yourself, you gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, just... got distracted.”

“Bout what, Shiv?” Wrecker blundered into the cockpit, catching your last sentence. “We almost there?”

“Keep it in your bucket, we’re about to land.” Hunter rolled his eyes.

“Fine fine.” Wrecker squinted at you. “What’s up, Shiv?”

You gave him an uncertain smile. “Well... I know I’ll have to report to Commander Rex, is all. I mean, I’m not scared of him or anything,” you hurried to add, “I’m just- I’m a little nervous because I mean, you know, he was the one who recommended me to Force 99 and I- I just hope that... I mean...” You winced, chewing your lip and wishing you hadn’t blurted so much.

“Hope what?” Wrecker gave you a slight frown, eyebrows furrowed. “He won’t be mad at you, will he?”

You shook your head. “Oh- no, I don’t- I don’t think so. I just...” You glanced past his shoulder, catching sight of Crosshair standing in the doorway. “I just hope that I’ve... I’ve lived up to his recommendation,” you admitted in a small voice. “I know I’ve been- it’s been a bit of work to- to adjust, and I- I did do the kinda stupid thing on our first mission. I just- I want him to not regret recommending me, is all.”

Tech turned from his seat in front of you. “Why would he, Shiv?” he asked, voice lilting as he blinked under his goggles. “If you didn’t manage to integrate with us, that would be our fault, not yours. After all, you’ve been doing the bulk of the work. If all of your work isn’t succeeding, then it must be something we haven’t been doing to properly acclimate to you.” His statement, while clinical, made you smile despite yourself.

“Thank you, Tech,” you said shyly. “I do really, really like working with all of you. I... I don’t want to let you all down after you’ve taken a risk in welcoming me.”

Wrecker let out a bellowing laugh. “Don’t be stupid, Shiv!”

You couldn’t even be offended if you wanted to at the cheerful, utterly ingenious statement. A smile would cross your lips as you watched his animated face, his arms waving as he plowed on.

“We’re not letting you go now, not even if Rex tried! You’re one of the Bad Batch. I mean, you even got hurt for the Sarge and Tech. That’s proof right there for us.”

“Wrecker’s right,” Hunter spoke up, glancing at you briefly. “As long as you’re comfortable staying with us, then we consider you one of ours.”

You nodded, happiness lighting your chest with warmth. “Thank you. I- I really do want to continue to do my best.”

The ship landed, and you followed the others as they started to walk to the ramp. You trailed a little behind, the nervousness a little alleviated thanks to the others’ words, but still trying to mull over what you’d say to the Commander. Used to being the last one in line, it surprised you a little when Tech dropped back to walk beside you.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked, voice pitched a little lower.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I noticed you were walking a little behind, so...”

Your mouth opened a little. “O-oh... I mean, I’m just used to being at the back,” you explained haltingly. “As a weapon, it’s convenient for me to- to watch the back... I mean, normally. It’s sort of- it’s become habit.” You flicked your eyes down, not wanting to go further back to the days when slaves were taught to keep behind your master, don’t ever make eye contact with anyone above you, protect your owner.

“You don’t have to do that with us, you know, Shiv. I mean,” Tech said, adjusting his glasses, “If we need to fight you should probably be in the middle of us anyway.”

You smiled at him, grateful for his thought. “Thanks, Tech.” So you kept in time with his steps, approaching Commander Rex who was waiting.

“Welcome back, Force 99,” he greeted calmly, nodding to everyone. “Looks like you came back without injuries.”

Hunter saluted. “Well, not quite, Commander, but I think we’re in pretty good shape.”

“Not quite?” Rex raised an eyebrow, eyes scanning you all. They lingered on you for a moment. “You seem fine.”

“Healed now, Commander,” Hunter confirmed. “Shiv took the worst hit our first mission, though.”

You winced, lifting your hands and waving them awkwardly. “It’s f-fine, Sergeant, C-Commander!” you squeaked loudly, voice pitching higher. “I’m fine, just- just a usual battle occurrence, you know-“

But Rex approached you with a frown. “Shiv, we all know you usually don’t get normal injuries,” he said severely. “Did you try too hard and get distracted again?”

You ducked your head, feet shuffling as he called you out. “It was my fault, Commander-“

“Bantha poodoo,” Hunter muttered, rolling his eyes. “It was my fault, Commander. I distracted her unintentionally and got her hurt.”

You looked up at Rex, eyes wide. “It’s not his fault. And I’m fine, really-“

He sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “If you’re really so fine, I suppose you wouldn’t mind going to let Kix take a look at you, then,” he said dryly.

You glanced at Hunter. “Um...”

Hunter just nodded. “You have our comms if you need us.”

You gave him a skittish smile. “Th-thank you, Sergeant. Um- Commander Rex, about a report-“

Rex waved you off. “Don’t worry about it, Shiv, I’ll get it from you later.” He dismissed you.

You reached out and brushed a hand against Tech’s arm. “I’m gonna go...”

He nodded. “Comm if you need anything.”

You nodded and turned to flee, hurrying through the door. You wanted to go see the 501st, especially Kix and Fives, your best friends. By the time you made it to their quarters, your anxiety had started to gnaw at your stomach again. You wanted to see them, but.... what if they were busy, or-?

The door burst open, and you staggered backwards at the unexpected motion. A gasp wrenching from your mouth, you flailed just as a hand caught your arm and kept you from falling. Hands grasping at the sleeves of whoever had caught you, you looked up through mussed hair.

Surprised eyes stared back at you, before a wide grin split the familiar face. “SHIV!” he hollered, grabbing you and pulling you into a tight hug that felt comforting despite crushing the air out of you. “Yo guys, Shiv is back!” Jesse, Kix, and a couple of others grinned and greeted you, while you waved back sheepishly. Fives dragged you over to the bunk, sitting you down.

“How did it go? Haven’t heard from you in a while, are you good, Shiv? Did you go on any good missions? How’s the Bad Batch coming along? Did everything work out?”

You defensively put up your hands, smiling. “I’ve missed you too, Fives, but uh- technically Commander Rex told me to come get a checkup from Kix-“

Kix was at your side in a heartbeat, frowning. “What? Did you get injured? Where?” he demanded, grabbing at you.

You held out your arm. “It’s fine, it’s healed, but he wouldn’t let me finish the story,” you said with a bit of a sulk. “It was just me being stupid and getting distracted-“

“You mean, you getting worried and trying too hard.” Kix rolled his eyes at you as he observed your arm. “Looks fine to me, did you get it patched quickly?”

You tried to look away, not wanting to admit to the severity of the damage. Kix’s eyes narrowed. “Shiv,” he said, voice warning.

You came clean, crumbling. “I had to cover it!” you yelped.

Fives hissed. “You what? Shiv, you never have to do that unless it was bad-“

You explained the mission, letting Kix double-check you over just for peace of mind. By the time you’d finished, Fives was groaning as Kix shook his head at you.

“Seriously, Shiv. You’re kriffing amazing, but you keep forgetting that you’re at home with us. We’re your Vod’ika.” Fives frowned at you. “Remember? Echo reminded you all the time.”

You flinched, turning your head away at the reminder. “I know,” you muttered, curling in on yourself. And he was right: the 501st had really been your brothers in the time you’d been with them. They’d really patched you up, taught you to think better of yourself, put more worth on your existence, gave you love and care and a home of protective brothers.

“Sounds like at least the Bad Batch know better than to let you take all the blame,” Kix tutted. “Have they treated you well?”

You looked up and nodded at that, eyes wide. “Yeah! They’ve... they’ve been really good to me, like you guys,” you said, stumbling over your words in your rush to assure them. “I- I’ve really been enjoying working with them. It’s a bit hard because of their differences, but it’s really...” you tilted your head, “rewarding?”

Fives nodded. “That’s good, Shiv. Glad to hear it.” He stretched. “Hey, we’re going to the 79s tonight, come along? Please? I’ll buy you anything you want.”

You smiled at him, deciding that you’d go, just for the company. You didn’t really like the bars, but... for Fives. And Kix. “Only if you promise you won’t make me dance, you’ll let me sit close to you guys, and only if you get me a mocktail,” you bargained.

Fives whooped. “Deal! Let’s go!”

You laughed a bit, shaking your head. “Let me at least go say hi to the others,” you protested. “Besides, I should get changed-“

“Oh yeah, wear a dress, Shiv.” Fives turned to you excitedly.

You blinked. “A... dress?” you asked uncertainly. You hadn’t worn one in a long time.

Fives tilted his head at you. “Do you have one?” His eyebrows furrowed. “Cause if you don’t, we should go get you one!”

You swallowed, glancing at Kix. “Uh- I mean, I don’t- I haven’t had to wear one in a long time so- uh-“

A grin spread across Fives’ face. “Let’s go.”

Kix just shook his head at you, his eyes telling you that you should just give up the attempt to protest. You swallowed and decided he was right.

~

“Fives-“ You stood in the dressing room, hands covering your face.

“C’mon, Shiv, lemme see!” Fives called from behind the curtain.

Taking a breath, you took one last self-conscious glance in the mirror before hesitantly walking out of the changing booth. Fives had insisted on taking you out, and after getting you a bit of a makeup makeover, dragged you to get a dress. And while you didn’t really mind, per se, this felt a little... unusual. Fives grinned at you, twirling his finger. You did a bit of a spin with the combat boots you’d refused to give up. The mid-thigh high dress flared a little as you squeaked and pushed it back down, feeling heat bloom in your face. The black dress had a bit of a ruffled skirt and was off-the-shoulder, but still comfortable and not overly revealing. “Do you like it, Shiv? It looks really good,” Fives encouraged, nodding.

You gave him an uncertain look. “Um- I guess? Does it look okay? I mean, for... going out with you all?”

He snorted. “Shiv, if anything we’re going to have to keep you under close watch so some idiot doesn’t decide that he’s good enough to put his hands all over the art.” He rolled his eyes.

You laughed a little, appreciating the way Fives always tried to make sure you weren’t pressured into anything. “If you’re sure this looks ok, I’m fine with it. It’s comfortable.”

He nodded, pleased. “C’mon then! Let’s go get it. We should be just in time to catch the others on the way over.”

You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder again as you followed after Fives. He paid for the dress, which you’d tried and failed to protest, and hailed a cab to take you to the 79s. Turning, you pressed your hand against the window and watched the traffic spin by with dizzying colors in neat lines of air lanes.

“Just stick close to us if you’re uncomfortable, Shiv,” Fives was saying from his seat. “If you need to leave that’s fine. Just wanted to have a good time with you after you’ve been away, y’know?”

You turned to give him a grateful smile, reaching out to grab his hand. “Thanks, Fives. I’m glad to see you guys again.”

He grinned, squeezing your hand. “Oh, we’re here.” Paying the fare and still holding your hand, he pulled you out of the cab and headed toward the doors of the club. You swallowed a little at the noise you could already hear coming from inside the building. Still, you held onto his hand tightly as he pulled you in, leading you through the crowds to a booth over by the other side of the dance floor.

“There you are, Fives,” Jesse called, waving from the booth. Several of the 501st were crammed into the booth, some of them already nursing drinks even though it had barely gotten dark outside. You tried to reorient yourself, out of breath from the quick walk through the mass of people. Your hair had fallen over your face.

“Who did you bring?” Hardcase asked, voice a little confused.

You looked up with a blink, confused. Surely he hadn’t forgotten you-?

But Fives was cackling. “Hardcase you idiot, it’s Shiv.”

Even Dogma gave you a double-take, making your cheeks heat. “U-um, h-hi,” you said, not knowing what to do other than give a little wave.

“Whoa, Shiv, you look really good,” Tup said with a friendly grin. “Never seen you all done up like that.”

You smiled, sliding into the booth and ending up squished between Fives and Hawk. “Oh... well, I haven’t needed to wear a dress in a while, and... I mean, Fives made me.” You shrugged.

Hawks reached over and smacked Fives’ shoulder. “Idiot. Now you’ve done it.”

Fives whined exaggeratedly and rubbed his shoulder. “Look, I made sure she liked it before I bought it! And she looks really good!”

“This is the 79s.” Hawk rolled his eyes. “You know Shiv doesn’t like attention from people she doesn’t know.”

You smiled, grabbing Hawk’s hand. He was always the quiet, stoic older Vod of the group, and he’d always kept an eye out for you from afar. “I’m ok, Hawk. Fives promised he wouldn’t make me dance or anything. I just haven’t seen all of you in a while, so...” You bit your lip, letting go as soon as you remembered the red lipstick. “I mean- I’ve sort of missed being with my... with my Vod’ika.” You tried out the word for the first time, hesitant and a little worried you’d misspeak it. But if the way everyone’s heads whipped to you the moment you said it, you didn’t think that was the issue. Not when their eyes were practically glittering.

Tup grinned, leaning over the table. “Say it again, Shiv?”

You shied into Hawk’s side. “Uh-um-“

But Hawk wasn’t much help either, chuckling as he poked your side teasingly. “Say it again, Shiv.”

You glanced around, then swallowed. “Vod’ika,” you managed to say, albeit quietly.

But Fives let out a whoop. “I’m gonna go get you your favorite drink, just for that, Shiv!” He leapt off to go towards the bar, leaving you blushing but laughing a little.

“Glad to see you doing well, Shiv. I take it the Bad Batch has been treating you fine?” Dogma decided to ask, taking sympathy on you.

You nodded, fiddling with the edge of your skirt unconsciously. “Yeah, they’ve been really nice. I like working with them. It’s hard work but it’s... it feels really, um, rewarding, and good.”

Fives came back with your drink, tossing a hand around your shoulder. “Here you go, Shiv.”

You reached forwards, eyes lighting up at the sight of the drink. It was your favorite fruity mocktail with a dash of soda, a rare treat. Pulling it toward you, you took a little sip and let out a happy hum, smiling around the straw. You didn’t notice the fond smiles the others sent you as you wiggled a little in your seat, enjoying the drink.

Fives left after a minute to go find someone to dance with, and Jesse decided to go to the bar after a moment. Hawks slid to the other side of you, keeping himself as a buffer between you and the rest of the club. You continued to just enjoy your drink, feeling safe as long as the others were watching over you. You didn’t necessarily enjoy the club atmosphere, but it was worth it to hang out with your Vod’ika.

But still, even as you enjoyed the company and catching up with the 501st, you began to realize that you kinda wished that the Bad Batch were there. That you could listen to Tech chatter on about whatever he was working on, or what he had read recently. You wished you could hear Wrecker’s loud, boisterous laughter echo throughout the room. Hear Crosshair’s grunts as he listened, probably polishing his weapons. Or even just feel Hunter’s presence around. Despite his hypersensitive senses, he’d allowed you to quietly sit in the cockpit with him sometimes, remarking that your presence and heartbeat were tranquil and calming. He’d even told you that you smelled like the ozone of plasma and the faint undertones of gunmetal, familiar and grounding.

“Hey Shiv, you alright?” Hardcase’s voice made you look up.

“Oh- I’m fine, thanks.” You smiled. “Just got a little lost in thought.” You glanced over at the bar, noting that Kix had joined Jesse. “I’m gonna go talk to Kix for a minute,” you told Hawks.

He nodded, letting you past him. You walked towards the bar, ignoring everyone else around you. Kix turned to see you as soon as you hopped up into the chair next to him, smiling.

“You okay, Shiv?”

You just nodded, legs swinging above the floor. “I’m good. Are you and Jesse ok?” You peered around him at Jesse.

He just nodded. “I’m fine,” he reassured, lifting his drink. “Just talking with Kix.”

You nodded. “Oh, where’s Fives?”

Kix pointed towards the dance floor, so you swiveled the chair to peer into the crowd. You caught sight of Fives and smiled, watching as he danced away and occasionally bumped into a few people. Fives, of all of them, never really seemed to have a problem getting a girl or two to fawn over him. You didn’t really mind watching him, though, amused by his antics and his reckless abandon in everything he did, including dancing and flirting.

After a moment, though, you turned and tugged at Kix’s sleeve. “I’ll be back. Fresher,” you said, sliding off of the chair.

“You know where it is?” he asked immediately,.

You nodded. “Around that corner. I’ll be back.”

He frowned but nodded. “Be safe.”

You went and found the fresher without any problems, and after washing your hands, glanced in the mirror. You blinked, almost startled at the makeup. You’d forgotten it was on, really. Shaking your head, you decided to just ignore it and walk back out. You were starting to feel a bit... peopled-out, but you wanted to stay a bit more just to hang out with the 501st. You could always go back to the Marauder whenever and get some sleep afterwards.

You’d just headed back out when you bumped into someone. With a gasp, you stumbled back. “S-Sorry,” you blurted. “I wasn’t paying attention-“

“Well what do we have here?” A guy smirked at you, his reddened cheeks giving away his state. “You’re pretty, aren’t ya?”

You gave him an uncomfortable smile. “Thank you. If you’ll excuse me-“

“What, leaving so soon?” He glanced up and down, eyes lingering in ways that made you want to shrink. “How about a dance, huh?”

You glanced around, hoping to catch sight of Fives. “Um- no thanks, I don’t-“

“C’mon, just a dance, call it even for catching you from falling.” He reached out to grab your arm as you started to scrabble away, breath shortening. No- no, if you panicked here-

But all you could see was leering faces, staring at you as though you were nothing more than a simple object, a ware to be bought and sold. Hands grabbing at you, reaching for you, using and abusing you to force you to kill and kill and kill-

“Oi, there you are Shiv!” A booming voice cut through your clouding, panicking mind.

Close to tears, you looked up to see a familiar face grinning down at you. Hyperventilating, you opened your mouth only for nothing to come out, your lips trembling. You could only mouth for help, please.

“Was lookin’ for you, y’know,” Wrecker said with a hearty laugh, stepping in front of you. “You just disappeared.”

Reaching out, you grasped his sleeve with shaking fingers and tried to breathe through the waves of panic.

“Hey, but I-“

Wrecker turned to look at the guy, staring down at him. He laughed, fairly towering over the guy. “What, didn’t Shiv already tell you she didn’t want to dance?”

The guy took one look up and decided to mutter something before slinking away.

Wrecker turned to you. “Hey, Shiv, you ok?”

You clutched his sleeve so tightly that you swore you could squeeze the dye out of it. “I’m sorry,” you gasped out. “I just- it took me off-guard and I-“

“Hey, it’s ok, Shiv.” Wrecker reached out, then hesitated. “Can I- uh- so we can go somewhere quieter?”

You nodded, feeling jittery. “P-please.”

He nodded and gently grabbed you, lifting you up and starting to wade through the crowd. He set you down, and you looked up to see that you were in a smaller booth, further into the corner of the room. The Bad Batch were all sitting there, looking at you with concerned frowns.

“Shiv, you okay? Didn’t know you’d be here,” Hunter said cautiously.

You shook your head, beginning to explain shakily how you’d ended up at the 79s. “I- I just- something about him re-reminded me of my past and I- I was trying not to panic because there’s too many people,” you gasped out, shaking your head.

“Wrecker, go find one of the 501st and tell them Shiv’s with us,” Hunter said.

You closed your eyes, breathing in slowly and evenly as you tried to calm down. Your heart was still pounding, and you were sure Hunter could hear it, maybe even the way your blood seemed to rush through your veins in an adrenaline-laced frenzy.

“Hey, you’re fine, now. No one’s gonna hurt you while we’re around,” Hunter said carefully.

Wrecker lumbered back, Kix trailing behind him.

“Shiv, are you alright? I’m sorry, I should have gone with you-“

You shook your head at him. “It’s ok, Kix. I didn’t think anything would happen in two minutes,” you sighed. “Besides, I accidentally bumped into him anyway.”

“He ran off like a coward,” Wrecker said staunchly, sitting next to you in the booth.

“Do you want to stay here, or come back to our booth?” Kix asked you.

“I’ll stay, I should go back to the ship soon anyway,” you said, brushing hair out of your face. “I’ll see you later, Commander Rex said he’d get my report later anyway.” You gave him a small smile.

Kix nodded. “Stay safe and get some rest, Shiv.” With a wave to you and the others, he returned to the bar.

You still felt a little shaky, even though your heart rate had slowed a little and you felt less dizzy. In a way, you almost wished you could Shift, just to physically hide away in a place of comfort.

“Wrecker?” you asked quietly.

He turned to look at you quizzically.

“Could I- um, can I hold your hand? I’m feeling a little...”

With a ready grin, he held out his hand without hesitation.

You took it with a grateful smile, wrapping your fingers around his broad hand. The warmth and strength in his hand soothed and grounded you, reminding you that this was your team, and they had protected you so far. Welcomed you, even. You noticed that a few scars littered his hand, white slashing across his fingers and the back of his hand.

Running your fingers over the scars, you vaguely wondered how he’d gotten some of them. They puckered slightly, your fingers feeling the ridges and valleys of the scar tissue as they ran across his bronzed hand. His fingers flexed slightly, as though holding back a gesture as he spoke, and the controlled strength in the movement as he lightly squeezed your fingers reminded you of how he could effortlessly heft your weapon form in his hands.

Holding onto his fingers, you closed your eyes and took a few steadying breaths. The noise of the bar had turned into a murmur of white noise in the back of your awareness, your attention focusing inward. You could feel the strength of the Bonds you’d formed with the Bad Batch, lingering on the fringes of your awareness.

While you couldn’t read any thoughts, you could still feel, if you focused, a baseline flow of emotion if they were projecting or feeling strongly. Crosshair was silent, as always, a sort of fuzzy darkness in your mind that still somehow felt comforting in its mere presence. Hunter had a slight spike of irritation, but not directed towards anyone in particular. Most likely from the loud noises and smells, you guessed. Tech had a flow of thoughts, like the babble of a creek in the faint distance, occasionally getting a bit louder before quieting. It was grounding in its constancy. Wrecker, of course, always projected, so if you focused you could always feel something from him. Like now-

A spark of pure, undiluted joy. A flutter of nervousness? Overwhelming protectiveness, and a vague desire to feel gunmetal against skin, pushed away.

Your eyes fluttered open, a little surprised at the mixture of his strong emotions. You’d never really felt that combination before, besides the underlying want for a weapon that always underscored his thoughts. Still, the way his thoughts kept gravitating towards those made you wonder what he was thinking about to make him feel them so strongly.

You realized that you’d laced your fingers unconsciously in Wrecker’s, physically tethering yourself to his presence as you focused inward for a moment. Letting out a soft breath, you shook yourself a little and started to uncurl your fingers from his, unsure if he was uncomfortable with the rather intimate touch.

Instead, he immediately looked down at you, interrupting himself mid-sentence. “You okay, Shiv?” He glanced down at your hand, eyebrows furrowing.

You blinked, a little surprised. “Y-yeah, thank you. Sorry, I just didn’t know if I, um, made you uncomfortable. I was trying to- uh- focus on the- the Bonds and sort of zoned- zoned out.”

He squeezed your hand, smiling again. “No problem! As long as you feel okay.”

You ducked your head a little, sending him a shyly grateful smile. Wrecker had been, in all honesty, the most effusively kind to you despite his brash ways. His volume never really bothered you, knowing that it was simply who he was, his personality. He was strong and tended to barge into things, of course, but he wasn’t stupid. No one knew that better than you, after being in his head so many times. He was protective of those he considered family and friends, and attentive to their moods and needs. He’d been one of the most open and accommodating to you ever since you first joined and completed Transference.

As you let yourself twine fingers with Wrecker’s broad hand again, you began to realize how much you felt for the Bad Batch. How quickly they’d crawled into your head, wormed into your heart. How much you thought about them, worried about them. Though at first you’d simply wanted to be a useful part of the team and help out, you now realized that you cared about them, as clones, as humans, as friends, as teammates, as family.

You’d been wishing earlier that they had been there to share the experience with you. When you’d been panicking, all you could think about beyond the fear was that you wanted to be back on the Marauder, back with the Bad Batch, surrounded by familiarity and comfort. You’d looked immediately to your teammates for grounding. You’d instantly wanted to focus inward on the Bonds for comfort and stability.

You’d actively sought out Wrecker’s physical presence to calm yourself, reaching back out to ask for the affection he so readily offered and gave. The realization hit you with more force than you’d really anticipated. How fast had the Bad Batch integrated themselves into your heart and mind? How far did they reach into your very being? How much had they claimed of your normally-reserved trust and affection? Why did Wrecker’s grin under crinkled eyes and his firm grasp make you feel so warm and safe?

Since when had your heart felt so achingly full when you were just with them?

You stared blankly at the table for a moment, mind practically screaming. Oh, Maker, you couldn’t possibly have— could you? Had you really- You’d thought that, after Echo, you’d never have the capacity or even desire to feel that way again toward anyone, but- really? Had you really started to crush on Wrecker?

You desperately hoped your palms hadn’t gotten any sweatier after the incident and the new revelation. You wished for a moment that you could just... leave. You needed distance, needed just- just a moment away, to think.

A hand landed on your arm lightly, making you look up. Tech gave you a cautious look. “I’m going back to the ship, the others are planning to stay a little longer. Do you want to go back with me?”

You instantly nodded jerkily, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Yes, please.” You turned to look up at Wrecker, trying desperately not to show any of your roiling feelings on your face. “Wrecker, I’m going back to the ship with Tech.”

He blinked, then nodded. “Oh, sure. You okay?”

You nodded, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “I’m fine, just a little... over the crowds.”

His face eased. “Right, you’ve been here a while.” He grinned, then squeezed your hand before letting go. “Stick with Tech till you get back to the ship, alright?” he advised, placing his hands on your hips and lifting you up and over him in the booth to set you on your feet on the floor.

You blinked, mouth a little parted. “Oh- of course,” you said belatedly, feeling heat start to creep up your face at the effortless gesture. “Thanks, Wrecker. For everything.” Before you really thought about it, you bent over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “I owe you a snack,” you called over your shoulder as you turned to catch up to Tech.

You didn’t hear a reply, too busy reaching out to grab Tech’s sleeve as you followed him through the crowd. He glanced back at you, then grasped your hand more securely. You kept your head down and instead noted how his thin, lithe fingers wrapped around your hand with a wiry strength. His fingers were long and tapered, callouses scraping against your skin, but his hand was warm and still gentle. As soon as you walked outside into the cool air, you sucked in a deep breath and sighed in relief. Tech glanced back at you as he hailed a cab.

“Are you alright, Shiv?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, just... it was really loud and warm in there, and... I don’t usually go there because crowds make me uncomfortable,” you said, shaking your head.

He held the door open and let you slide in before him, closing the door and telling the cabbie where to go. Then he turned back to you.

“I understand. I only go for a few drinks and then usually head back to the ship. I don’t really see a point in wasting time around so many people when I’m not really interested in most of the reasons others go there for in the first place.”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Fives wanted me to go, and I hadn’t seen them in a while so I decided to. Usually I’m fine, they do keep me at the booth with them. I just... you know, no one expects to have an anxiety attack just trying to come back from the fresher.” You rolled your eyes in annoyance.

Tech nodded. “I’m glad Wrecker found you when he did.”

You sighed. “I can usually defend myself, I just...” you glanced out the window with a hint of bitterness. “Something about him... just brought back old memories. And the crowd was just so much that I guess I wasn’t prepared for it.”

“Nothing wrong with that, Shiv,” Tech said, observing you. “You’ve mentioned to us enough things about your past to know that you’ve been through a lot. I mean, I’m surprised you even allow yourself to be a weapon anymore as it is.”

You gave him a startled look. “What else would I do? I mean, I know, I could learn another trade.” You rolled your eyes. “But I mean... a weapon is just what I am, literally. It only makes sense that I be myself, especially in a time when I can be most useful. I was just... not used in the way I chose to be used before. Now that I’m being used by those who are fighting for a cause I believe in, it’s...” You scrunched your nose, unsure how to exactly explain yourself.

You decided a different tack. “I mean, you like working with your gadgets, right?”

He nodded, eyes focused on you intently.

You motioned to his goggles. “You could do other things, but it makes the most sense to do what you find fulfillment in doing. If you were, say, captured and forced to make things or do work for the Separatists, you’d feel miserable, right?”

“I should think so,” he agreed.

“But you’re using what you enjoy as a tool to also help the cause you believe in. So it’s rewarding in the right context.” You sighed, folding your hands on your lap. “I am a weapon. Being used as a weapon is... is what I am good at, it gives me a sense of fulfillment because it is what I am. It’s just... before, I wasn’t given a choice of how or why I was used. Now it’s... it’s different. I chose to accept Commander Rex’s suggestion, and I chose to learn to work with you. This...” you took in a steadying breath. “Being with you is- is where I feel most at home, now. Where I feel happy.”

Tech gave you his little, signature smile, his thin lips curling up. “Glad to hear it, Shiv. I personally think your addition to the group has been a good one.”

You gave him a smile, the warmth lighting in your chest again.

Tech opened the door for you once you arrived, paying the cabbie. He offered his hand, which you took, and started back towards the ship at the GAR.

“I’m going to be in the common room doing things, in case you want to join,” Tech offered, letting go of your hand once you climbed the ramp.

You nodded. “Oh, um, Tech- do you have footage from our missions?”

He nodded. “All of them so far, yeah. Do you want them?”

You gave him a sheepish nod. “Yeah... I mean, they’d probably be nice to have to give to Commander Rex as part of my report tomorrow,” you admitted.

He nodded. “Bring your datapad and I’ll upload them.”

“Thanks, Tech. I’ll be there in a minute.” You went back to your room to change, deciding to also wipe off your makeup while you were at it. Dressed in a comfortable oversized shirt that used to belong to Echo and a pair of comfortable shorts, you grabbed your datapad and headed back to the common area to get the video from Tech.

He readily uploaded the footage, and you both fell into your usual habit of doing your own thing in companionable silence. You went through and compiled a report based on the logs you’d written and the footage that Tech had provided, and after proofreading it, sent it to Rex in advance of your report. Glancing at the time, you noted that it had been about a chron and a half since you’d started. Still, it wasn’t too late, and you weren’t quite tired enough to consider bed yet.

You stood and grabbed your datapad. “I’m going to the galley, Tech,” you said.

He gave you an absentminded nod, refocusing on his work and mumbling under his breath.

Hiding a small smile, you went to the galley and paused a moment to put on some soft music from a channel you liked on the datapad. Setting it on the counter, you rummaged through the cupboards. Luckily, the delivery you’d ordered had arrived earlier that day, so you had the ingredients you needed for your baking needs. Pulling out the ingredients, you began the familiar, calming process of baking.

But as you hummed absently to the music and continued to whisk ingredients in the stainless steel bowls, you found your mind wandering to process the thoughts that had been hovering in the back of your mind. More specifically, the revelation you’d had about your feelings towards your team.

After finally calling the 501st your Vod’ika out loud to them, you’d realized that you really did consider them your brothers, your family. They had all been the ones to pull you out of your darkest moments, rescue you from your slavery to a Separatist highbrow, and give you a reason to live and a sense of worth to your tattered name. They’d all been your protective older brothers who had taken care of you and nurtured you back to health and functioning mental capacity. They’d been the ones to show you what healthy Transference should really be like.

And Fives and Echo had been your firsts in many ways. Fives had been your first confidante, first close brother and friend, first to bring you out of your shell, first fight that hadn’t ended in violence or danger. Echo... Echo had been your first in other ways. Your first voluntary physical contact that hadn’t been frightening or forced, your first genuine laugh-until-you-cried, first requested hug, first bunkmate you fully trusted— and first crush. At least, you considered him to be your first crush. Not that you’d ever told him or even really thought about telling him, sure that he simply saw you as a sister of sorts or just friend at the very least.

When the Battle had happened... you, Fives, and Kix had all grown undeniably closer as the ones closest to Echo and ones who took the loss the hardest. Not that the others didn’t, but everyone knew that the four of you had really been a package deal in most situations, not to mention the way the incident had happened...

A little part of you still screamed that you shouldn’t have listened to him, should have just stayed with him, should have done anything, something-

But you knew that Echo would have hated hearing you say anything of the sort. Knew he would have told you fiercely that he’d made his own choice, had gone the way he chose to.

Still. The pain still gnawed at you whenever you thought of him. And after him, you thought you’d probably lose any capacity to even consider romantic feelings toward anyone. After all, you were right now simply a weapon in the middle of a galactic War. What soldier would want to have a relationship with a weapon? Not to mention all the baggage you’d come with? Whether you deserved love or not was moot point: you ran the risk of losing anyone. Echo had only driven that point home.

But somehow, without your realizing, you’d already possibly formed feelings for Wrecker. And that being said, you thought desperately as you poured batter into the cupcake tins, that wasn’t the only problem. Your feelings, while certainly more predominant towards Wrecker, also extended to your other teammates. Wrecker was simply the one who had drawn your attention to your own reactions to him. But if you were being brutally honest with yourself, those same feelings of affection, trust, contentment, and safety extended towards all of them through your Bonds.

What were you going to do?

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[waithyuck]

beautiful

pairing: cambion! lee donghyuck/haechan x reader (f) **halloweenie special**

genre: smut, supernatural au

word count: 4.6k

warnings: brief allusions to darker themes, brief thoughts/desires to harm the reader in a consensual sexual context (reader is really into it and encourages it), explicit language, sexual content, unprotected sex, cumming inside, blood, rough handling, hyuck has a big dick whoops, hyuck is also a half demon so he gets a lil sadistic you have been warned

a/n: this was really fun to write and I’m really excited to see all of your reactions after reading lol

{cambion: offspring of a demon and a human; commonly has physical deformities and can exhibit evil and malicious behavior.}

< previous | next >

~10/17/2020~

~~~~

the world you lived in now was one that society probably could have never predicted back a hundred years ago. you were sure no one thought that humans would live amongst creatures far beyond the common imagination, nor did you think that they thought the human race would still come out on top.

most would assume that supernatural creatures would have taken over the hierarchy easily, but that was not the case for this world. even though there were demons, angels, dragons–you name it, they existed– somehow the humans still ruled.

from what you could understand, it was because the supernatural were threatened since the very beginning of their known existence. unfortunately for them, the human government now had the means (and the firepower) to keep them subdued. they were essentially forced to keep their powers subdued, for the “greater good of the population”, as the people in charge put it.

ever since you were a child, there had been at least a handful of non-human children that were part of your classes at school. not many, since there were fears of bullying and harm from other students toward them, but enough to make a lasting impression on you.

at first, you were curious. you remember one instance back in grades school where you wouldn't stop staring at a young werewolf boy; too young to hide his teeth or his tail. you didn’t stare because you hated him or wanted to pick on him; you really thought he was amazing, but didn’t have the words to explain that to him at such a young age.

you’re proud to say you’ve grown a lot since then. now in college, you treated those different to you as equals, as you should. you try not to stare or question, and of course you’re never mean and you don’t bully, nor do you condone bullying.

seeing the supernatural constantly being picked on was something that always made you feel sick. they weren’t legally allowed to use their powers or strength, leaving them at a disadvantage to cowardly human bullies. you didn’t doubt that if the supernatural were able to fight back, the humans would cower in three seconds flat, and you would have yourself a good laugh.

speaking of bullies, you unfortunately had to pass by a group of girls who were berating a boy you’ve seen across campus a few times. as you walked, you couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you could see the boy becoming visibly more upset (or angry, rather) as time went on.

lee donghyuck was usually an individual who kept to himself, most definitely because of his genetic makeup. the experts around the school determined that he was a cambion; a half human half demon offspring, to which donghyuck apparently confirmed. people would constantly come at him for his singular red eye or the talons that were only on his left hand.

to be honest, you were always a little afraid of him. sticking up for him was very heavily outweighed by the fear he might lash out at you for helping, making him feel weak or something. but today something inside you screamed for you to help him, no matter the consequences.

you just hoped he didn’t tear you to shreds with his sharp talons.

you changed course and walked straight up to the group of nasty girls, them not even noticing you until you stepped in front of donghyuck, much to his surprise as well as theirs.

“can you guys leave him alone?” you stupidly asked, your voice not coming out as strong as you would have liked it to. the ‘leader’ of the pack looked shocked for a second, before laughing in your face.

“oh my god!” she laughed, clutching her stomach. “why are you trying to defend this freak? hoping he’ll fuck you or something?”

you felt your face heat up in embarrassment but you held your ground, not tearing your eyes away from her or moving from your spot in front of the half-demon boy.

“no,” you firmly stated, “I’m just trying to defend him from low-lifes who think it’s cool to pick on him for things he can’t control.”

you gave yourself a mental high five for maintaining your composure. you couldn’t see donghyuck’s face but you were really hoping he wasn’t angry. you didn’t turn to face him just yet.

the girl in front of you dropped her smile, a scowl replacing it as she scoffed in your face. she let out a “whatever,” before motioning for her posse to follow her as she walked away.

well, that was easier than you thought it was gonna be.

“why did you do that?” the boy behind you suddenly asked, his voice soft but it still managed to startle you. you turned to face him, putting on your biggest smile.

“I can’t stand when people pick on others for things that can’t be controlled.” you explained simply, looking him in the eye even though your heart was ready to explode out of your chest. “you didn’t decide to be what you are, so no one should belittle you for that.”

he cracked a small smile at you, and at that moment a friendship formed, whether the two of you realized it or not.

donghyuck allowed you to grow close to him, which you thought was the most amazing thing. he opened himself up to you, and you became great friends over the course of the winter semester into the spring. in turn you opened up to him, and the two of you had a pure and healthy friendship.

he smiled with you and joked around, laughing and being playful in your presence. not many people bothered him when you were around, most likely because they didn’t feel like fighting with someone, which you and hyuck were grateful for.

hyuck was always gentle; he never wanted to hurt anyone or anything, not even the smallest ants on the ground. he was very careful not to touch you, in fear he would be unaware of his inhuman strength and hurt you or accidentally scratch you with his sharp claws. you didn’t mind him being wary, but there was a part of that wished he would be comfortable enough for at least a hug.

of course you didn’t push him.

currently you sat with him in an empty art classroom, helping him with his literature paper while you painted the way the sun reflecting off the walls on your canvas. the sun touched his face beautifully, and as much as you wanted to paint him instead of the boring room, you kept your mind on track.

you worked in silence for a few moments, enjoying each other’s presence in the warmth of dusk, but of course no good thing lasts forever, and your peace was rudely interrupted as you heard the door slide open.

“hey, half-breed!” a girl shouted, causing hyuck to grip his pencil so hard it splintered completely in half, shocking you as you watched the top half fly in the air. “who’s this? your new little girlfriend?” the girl smirked evilly, looking at her painted nails before going on. “best be careful you don’t scare her away with your demonic tendencies. I bet you can’t even touch her without wanting to tear her to shreds with those ugly claws.” she snickered along with her posse of friends, and at that point you scowled at them, ready to rip them all new assholes. as you prepared to stand up to defend your friend, he stopped you with his own actions.

donghyuck let a loud growl rip through his throat, turning to face the bullies and effectively silencing them with the menacing sound. it shocked you, but you stood your ground and gripped his jacket sleeve to ground him despite your trembling fingers.

“I didn’t ask to be this way!” he practically screamed, intimidating the group standing before you even further. “do you think my mother asked for this? to have a burden of a son?” his voice was starting to fill with despair, and you could feel it inside you that he was struggling to keep his composure.

donghyuck sniffed and glared at the wall, not giving his tormentors the time of day any more.

“just leave me the fuck alone, would you?” he asked quietly, an aggressive air still present in his low tone.

one by one you watched the bullies file out, most of them shocked at hyuck’s sudden display of hostility. you supposed that they weren’t expecting him to finally fight back after all this time.

he stayed brooding beside you, and when you tried to find his gaze with your own, he shut his eyes as a stray tear fell down his cheek. before you could comment on it, he roughly wiped it away, still not meeting your kind eyes.

“donghyuck…” you whispered, your voice gentle as you tried to get his attention. “will you look at me?”

when he didn’t move or respond, you grasped his hand gently, failing to ignore the way he jumped at the contact.

“come on,” you spoke softly, tugging his arm slightly. “let’s go back to my place.”

he didn’t say anything in response, but allowed you to lead him back to your empty dorm room across campus. it was a silent walk, but you never let go of his hand, and he didn’t seem to want you to let go either, the tight grip he held on you being a clear sign.

when you arrived, you lazily pushed the door open, and led him to sit down on your creaky bed. you tried to pull your hand out of his own to go switch on the lights, but his grip only grew tighter, pulling your arm and causing you to fall down to sit next to him. you didn’t comment on the sudden slightly aggressive way he handled you; you only worried for him as he sat in the darkness of the room.

“...are you alright?” you asked, silently cursing yourself after a moment for asking such a stupid question.

he was silent for a moment, only breathing softly in the quietness in the room, before he sighed shakily and spoke up

“she should have gotten rid of me when she had the chance,” he whispered, his gaze cast downward as he shakily breathed before you. “she told me she couldn’t do it. she told me she wanted to be able to love me.”

you could safely assume he was referring to his mother, and the solemn tone in his voice made you fight back tears. you still never let go of his hand.

“I’m a living reminder of the trauma she went through…yet everyday when she looked at me, she never complained.” at this you saw a tear escape his left eye, the red iris glassy as the tears spilled forth.

“I’m a fucking monster.”

you felt your heart shatter.

here was this broken boy in front of you, claiming he was a monster for things he could have never even hoped to control. he was never malicious; he was always so gentle with everything, especially toward you. He stayed quiet when people relentlessly picked on him, never fighting back until today. as far as you were concerned, there was no way that he could ever be considered a monster, no matter what his genetic make up was or how he looked to other.

“what?” you questioned abruptly, your voice raising sightly above a whisper. “how could you say that? you’re not a monster, lee donghyuck.” he turned to look at you then, his eyes wide with curiosity as he watched you continue to speak. “you have a heart of gold. you’re always so gentle and caring with me, and other living creatures around you. you never fight back and i’ve never seen you hurt anyone.” you tore your eyes away from him, panting as you looked down at your lap, the rant you were going on making you emotional. “you are absolutely not a monster.”

he looked conflicted and turned his back to you, and you assumed it was because he didn’t want you to see what he was feeling. your hands were now apart, no longer in the comforting embrace of each other's warmth.

“...I could hurt you.” he mumbled quietly, and you weren’t able to detect the emotion in his voice. your eyebrows furrowed at the sudden statement, and you were quick with your rebuttal.

“you won’t.”

when he turned around and abruptly gripped your throat with his clawed fingers, you flinched instinctively but didn’t react further than that, challenging his angry gaze with a hard and confident stare. even though your heart was beating through your ribcage, you decided to grip his wrist with your own fingers as you looked at him, preparing to speak with a hard swallow that he surely felt against his palm.

“you can’t hurt me,” you said in a small voice, your lips quivering despite you trying your best to keep your composure. “you won’t. I know you won’t.” you continued, watching his face subtly change into one of confusion. his eyes were still transfixed on you; one crimson red like the blood flooding through your veins, and the other warm and brown, almost inviting you to get closer.

your grip on his warm wrist tightened, your other hand coming up to daringly caress his face, not hesitating to smooth over his soft cheek as he stared at you in complete awe.

“I trust you, donghyuck.”

fuck, you really wanted to kiss him.

he beat you to it though, pressing his lips against yours tightly, causing you to squeak in surprise. you kissed him back with as just as much feeling, your mouths moving together in sync. his clawed hand moved from your throat to rest on his leg (a little to your dismay, if you were being honest), and his other came up to gently caress your cheek as he deepened the kiss with his tongue.

“h-hyuck,” you played, pulling back only a centimeter, hips lips chasing yours. “is th-this okay? are you—“ his lips on yours cut you off, and he hummed into it before pulling away.

“I-I want you,” he stated quietly, looking down at his lap before flitted his eyes to yours once more. “if you’ll have me.”

you stared at him for a moment, overwhelming emotions filling your eyes and heart before you nodded and practically pounced on him.

the two of you kissed like there were no other worries in the world; it was just you both enjoying each other in the dim light of your room, feeling one another.

his hands didn’t touch you, but he allowed you to pull him over top of you on the bed, your back against the sheets as his body laid on top of yours.

with every moment that ticked past you grew more confident, and after a while you began fitting your hips up against his, delighted at the small friction you were creating.

“hyuck,” you whined, your hands moving to grip at the hair at the base of his neck. “pl-please, I want your fingers,” you were begging, but didn’t feel an ounce of embarrassment as his lust filled eyes stared back you, his plump lips parted. “please,”

he didn’t hesitate to help you out of your clothes, careful of his claws as he removed your pants and shirt. he freed you from your underwear and bra, leaving you bare in front of his full clothed form.

his right hand delicately smoothed down your thigh, spreading your legs apart so he could take a good look at you. you were wet and you knew it, and you threw an arm over your face to suppress your moans as he experimentally drug a finger through your soaked folds.

you didn’t have to wait long for him to sink a single digit inside you, and you let out a drawn out whine in response as he started gently thrusting it in and out of your clenching hole.

“is that good?” he asked lowly, not taking his eyes off the sight of his finger disappearing inside you. he was bold enough to add a second finger and even moved his thumb to press on your clit, and you keened at the sudden feeling.

“yes, so good baby,” you breathed in response, gripping the sheets beside you on both hands.

donghyuck eventually worked up to push a third finger inside you, and you practically howled at the feeling of being filled. his fingertips pressed into all your sweet spots, making you feel dizzy.

“mmnnff, hyuck,” you whimpered, catching his attention. he looked at you with dark eyes, his mouth parted as his tongue poked out to lick his lips. “what do you w-wanna do to me?”

it was a valid question, and it seemed to catch him off guard for a moment. hyuck seemed to be holding himself back from doing what he actually wanted, or behaving like he actually wanted to.

he quickly recovered, and withdrew his fingers from you in one quick movement. he moved them to your mouth and you caught the hint, only able to take in two of them. you suckled on his digits as you stared at him with doe eyes innocently, like you weren’t sucking off the excess juices from your pussy.

“I wanna fuck you,” he simply stated, watching you like a predator as you released his fingers from your mouth. “I wanna feel you, y/n. all of you.”

you couldn’t deny him that.

you sat up quickly and moved to tear at his shirt, the fabric peeling over his head before being thrown across the room in your haste. you worked at his pants and was successful at undoing the button and zipper, and he kicked them off his legs in one swift move.

you stared at the impossibly large bulge in his boxers, but didn’t allow yourself to become intimidated.

you would make him fit. you wanted to feel him stretch you out. you would make it work.

once his underwear was discarded, you watched his cock twitch against his stomach in awe. he sat at the edge of the bed, his feet planted on the floor as you moved to situate yourself on his lap.

you kissed him once more before a determined look graced your face, and you positioned your entrance above him, ready to begin.

“what do you really want to do to me?” you asked him again as you sank down onto his cock, watching as his nose scrunched up at the feeling of your wet and hot walls surrounding his painfully hard member.

in your periphery you could see his fingers flex like he wanted to reach out and touch you or grab you, but he was fighting himself. you sat still in his lap, his dick buried to the hilt inside you, pressing against your cervix because of how deep he was. you reached out and grabbed both of his hands, placing them on your hips.

“I w-wanna…” he started, gulping as his hands stayed feather light against your skin, still afraid to touch you fully. you clenched your walls around him playfully, watching as his expression changed from innocent and hesitant, to cold and dark in mere seconds.

his fingers gripped you fully, but he was still careful not to pierce your skin with the talons on his left hand. his right hand gripped your hip posessively, and it felt like he was close to crushing the bone. you gasped at the feeling, but welcomed the pain.

“I wanna hurt you,” he snarled, moving forward to nip at your vulnerable throat, causing his cock to move ever so slightly against your walls. “I wanna make you scream, cry, bleed...everything.”

you gasped at his words, your pussy clenching at the thought of him absolutely annihilating you, leaving you broken and unable to function as a normal human being ever again.

he must have taken your gasp the wrong way, and definitely must have not felt your walls clamp down on him, because he pulled away from your neck to look you in the eye, looking ashamed at his confession.

“you must be scared of me now,” he mumbled, looking away. “I knew this would happ–“

you cut him off by gripping his jaw in your hands, forcing him to face you as you crashed your lips against his. you moved your hands and gripped his hair, tugging roughly as you both made out messily, your body still impaled on his insanely large cock.

“fuck, donghyuck,” you panted, pulling away. “that’s so fucking hot, please,” you began rolling your hips against him, causing you both to groan. “I w-want it, please,”

he looked at you briefly before nodding his head, a movement so slight you would have missed it if you had blinked.

even though he had nodded his head, he didn’t go rough on you like you knew he wanted to. instead, he began helping you lift yourself up and down his cock, effectively fucking you onto himself. he threw his head back and moaned, and you took the opportunity to kissing along his throat and around his adam’s apple. you shivered as he growled, feeling the deep vibrations against your lips.

it felt so incredibly good to be filled with him; your walls clamped tightly around him as you swiveled and lifted your hips up and down on his lap, continuously making the both of you moan out in pleasure. it was indescribable; the way you felt almost overwhelming and you felt wetness forming in your eyes as you buried your face in his warm neck, the tears finally spilling. your broken cries egged him on, causing his hips to lift in time with you, thrusting his hard cock in and out of you with more force.

his soft grunts and groans in your ear had your walls fluttering, and with every grind against him you felt his skin brush your clit, pushing you further and further toward your impending climax. you were more worked up than you originally had thought.

“I-I thought you wanted to hurt me,” you provoked, the pace not faltering as you fucked each other with abandon. he let out a low snarl in response, but still didn’t become rough like you really wanted him to. “ come on, hyuck,” you whined out, tugging on his hard harder.

he seemed to be growing close to his end, his hips moving faster and with less precision. an idea popped into your mind, maybe not a good one, but an idea nonetheless.

you weren’t sure if it was going to work, but it was worth a shot.

you smirked to yourself.

“c-cum inside me,” you whimpered quietly in his ear, and you heard him slightly gasp at the request. “pl-please,” you begged further, your nails digging into his shoulders in result of the stimulation you were being subjected to. “I need t-to f-feel you cum inside…”

as you trailed off he roughly gripped your hips, lifting you off him with a loud growl, causing a sharp whine to escape you at the feeling of his cock slipping from your sensitive walls.

he had you on your back in seconds; lifting your legs to wrap around his waist tightly before he grabbed your hips and hoisted them in the air, pushing his cock into you again and starting a fast and rough pace immediately.

you were seeing stars at this point, not even acknowledging the pain of his talons suddenly ripping into the skin of your right side, causing blood to trickle down onto your clean sheets. it didn’t matter to you, and in some fucked up way, you seriously enjoyed the pain.

your orgasm was building very quickly, and with one final and brutal thrust from him, you were coming undone, his cock buried incredibly deep inside you.

he held you against him as he shot his cum inside you, not allowing you to squirm away as your walls clenched hard around him to the point where it was almost painful. he growled lowly as he emptied himself in your pussy, watching your face as it contorted in pleasure with an almost sinister smirk on his face.

as you came down from your overwhelming climax, you realized that he was still hard inside you, filling you up to the brim with not only his cock, but his cum as well.

you looked up at him surprised, and he only looked back at you with that same sinister smile.

“I’m not done yet,” he growled out, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it before. you breathed out heavily, looking up at him and taking in the largeness of his pupils; they were blown out so wide that you could barely make out the color of his irises.

he leaned his body down over you, his head moving next to yours as his lips brushed up against your ear. his movements caused his still hard cock to nudge even deeper inside you, and you gasped at the sensation.

“can you take it?” he asked, lightly nipping at your ear as he began softly grinding his hips into you once again.

you were sensitive, but the feeling of him moving inside you had your stomach fluttering, causing your walls to clench around him. you could practically hear his smirk as he chuckled, and your heart jumped at the sound.

you breathily begged for him to fuck you again, to really fuck you how he wanted to, and of course he couldn’t say no to that.

his hips pulled back and plunged into your core, the mess of both your juices squelching and spilling out as he ravaged you completely. he kept his face buried in your neck, his panting breaths tickling your skin as he groaned out with each powerful thrust.

you gripped at his back and allowed your nails to scratch down his skin, a desperate attempt to keep yourself sane. each hoarse whine that escaped from your throat only encouraged him further, and he quickened his pace to an inhuman speed.

your clit barely needed any stimulation for you to cum again.

“I-I’m sorry hyuck, I c-can’t,” you breathed out, gasping for air. “I can’t h-hold it,”

he bit your throat lightly in response, soothing the area with his tongue before speaking.

“It’s okay, baby.” he grunted, his hips losing their rhythm slightly as he pressed on. “I’m close too. just let go.”

that was all you needed to allow the band to snap, your second orgasm washing over you in waves. you didn’t realize you had sunk your teeth into his shoulder until he moaned loudly, causing you to open your eyes as he shot his cum inside you for the second time.

his hips continued to buck reflexively, and he lifted his head to capture your lips in a messy kiss, his tongue finding its way inside your mouth immediately.

it was quick but passionate, and you swore you could feel every emotion he felt for you with just that one kiss.

when he pulled out, you observed carefully as his eyes watched his cum drop out of you, his pupils still wide as he licked his lips. he snapped himself out of it when you opened your arms, inviting him to lay with you as you both came down from the exertion.

you played with his hair softly in the silence of the worm, the only sounds being of your breaths. as you closed your eyes, you heard him mumble.

“I think I love you.” he said quietly, trailing his finger up your stomach.

you immediately smiled, your heart warming with happiness.

“I think I love you too, hyuck.”

[fallinfl0wers]

19 with xiao, romantic, den reader, hurt comfort ? For that event of yours ! I’m looking forward to it, babe !

19. “No matter what road I take, they will always lead back to you.” Crossroads - GFRIEND from the lyric prompt list! thank you for your request!! it's sad xiao hours again;; and i had trouble since i couldn't quite get what i wanted to do with this at first and don't know if i did it right... >< but it has a happy ending (somewhat???) so that's good! i hope you enjoy! warnings: gn reader, hurt/comfort word count: 843 words

At this point in his life, time means nothing to Xiao.

At this point in his life, time might as well be frozen as he is while standing on this same spot again.

Be it the wind, time, or even life itself; it was all frozen in place for him as he stood under the pouring rain at night, looking up in search for the glint of a star, looking forward in search for a glimpse of your figure as he tries to recall how your fingers felt when combing through his hair, how your warmth felt when you enveloped him in your hugs, how your voice sounded like when you called his name.

"Don't go somewhere I can't follow," he said to you once upon a time.

And though he may be uneducated in human ways, Xiao is not naïve. He knew that was only his selfish wish; a selfish desire of having you only for himself to keep even if for just a brief instant which would never come true. Xiao might not know much about human feelings, but he knows human hearts flutter and change faster than he can move.

He cannot make your world come to a stall, he cannot keep you close to him.

As a human, you're bound to move on to the next better thing, he knows. You're bound to keep evolving and find home with others of your kind, leaving his sad existence as but a mere memory you might look back with nostalgic awe, amazed at the fact that you even managed to get his friendship, but that would be it.

Xiao had no place in your future, because he himself couldn't have a futre of his own.

So Xiao keeps on moving, walking through the vast lands of Liyue with all those heavy, karma-induced feelings on his heart and mind, trailing after him and keeping him chained down to that same place. There's no single place in Liyue that doesn't bring back thousands upon thousands of scary, dark memories to his mind, and at the same time, fill him with images and memories of the time spent with you.

Everything is filled with you, he'd come to notice at some point. The flowers on full bloom, the raindrops that dissolve into the ground as they fall, the leaves of every tree and each and every single spot is filled with you everytime his eyes wander around.

His time has come to a halt, this much, he understands, as he understands your own time keeps moving forward and leaving him trapped in this soon to be forgotten timeframe forever. He gets lost in his longing as he wanders the same places every day, wondering about the what-ifs.

What if he hadn't let you go so easily? (what if you hadn't given up back then?)

What if he had gone with you back then? (what if you had stayed back then?)

...What if he reached out to you, right now? (...what if you were to reach out to him, right now?)

As much as he likes to drown in self-hatred and longing for the brief peaceful moments you two shared before, Xiao wants to reach out.

Xiao wants to find you.

Even if you keep on crossing each other, if you keep on going through different directions, he trusts he'll go back to you. Even if he doesn't know how long has it been for you because he's been frozen in the same moment you walked away that day, still hurt and still regretting not trying a little harder to stay with you, fearing you may have forgotten him, he wants to find you. (you're looking for him, you're longing for him as much as he longs for you).

Your voice, your unmistakable voice reaches his ears as he stares at you with widened eyes.

"No matter what road I take, they will always lead back to you."

Xiao gives in to his impulses, holding your body close to his as if you were about to slip away if he didn't.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I couldn't come back earlier." Holding back tears, you hug him with all your might as you speak your next words. "I'm sorry I left you."

"...No. I'm sorry I didn't go with you." Xiao rested his head on the crook of your neck inhaling your scent and trying to order his thoughts. "I'm sorry I didn't go after you."

Mumbled apologies come out from both of you, as you relish in each other's warm embrace.

And now Xiao, feels like his time has started to move forward again, along with yours, as your paths intertwine yet again as your fingers do with his. And even if they were to be torn apart once more in the near or far away future, he knows he will always remember you and reach out to you again.

Every turn in every road the two of you take will always lead back to each other, and that's the only truth of this world.

[emospritelet]

Homecoming - chapter 27/?

I know it's been ages...

Last time, Belle and Ogilvy spent the night together, and were walked in on by one of the maids. Here's what happened next

[AO3] - 3,758 words

-

Belle hurried along the corridor, the shawl clasped tightly around her shoulders, ears pricked for the sound of a footstep, the creak of a floorboard. It was still early, and she heaved a sigh of relief when she reached her room without meeting anyone. Closing the door quietly behind herself, she went to wash, stripping off the nightgown and wrapping a robe around herself. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, and paused, turning her head this way and that. Nothing had changed as far as she could see, and yet it seemed that everything had. She could see the corners of her mouth wanting to curve upwards, and she allowed herself a wide, contented grin. Her fortunes had certainly taken a wonderful, if unexpected, turn.

By the time she was dressed and her hair in place, the children were awake, letting themselves into her room while rubbing sleepy eyes and yawning. Alice was behind them, already dressed and still trying to brush her blonde curls into some sort of order.

“I was about to ring for their breakfast,” she said.

“I can do that,” said Belle. “Is anyone else up, do you know?”

“Only the servants, I think.” Alice eyed her curiously. “Are you alright?”

“Perfectly.” She could feel a blush start to rise in her cheeks. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, you just look…” Alice shrugged, turning away. “Never mind. May I borrow a ribbon? All of mine seem to have disappeared. I think I must have packed them in the trunk rather than my valise but I can’t find them.”

“Of course, help yourself.”

Belle rang the bell, and set about getting the children ready, ensuring that faces were washed and hair brushed. Their breakfast was brought up by a dark-haired maid that Belle didn’t know. The maid seemed to be glancing at her out of the corner of her eye every chance she got, and Belle wanted to sigh. All the servants knew, then.

She focused on getting the children to eat their porridge, stewed prunes and sweet rolls, and Alice chattered about the journey ahead of them, and how much she was looking forward to getting home.

“Papa said we’d be leaving around midday,” she said. “Are you headed out for a walk this morning?”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought.” Belle chewed her lip, glancing around. “Will I have time before breakfast, do you think?”

“It won’t be served until nine-thirty,” said Alice. “You should go. I can sit with the twins.”

“In that case, I might take a turn around the lake,” she said. “I think some fresh air would do me good.”

“You do look a little tired,” observed Alice, eyeing her. “Didn’t you sleep? My bed was ever so comfortable, but perhaps yours wasn’t.”

“No no, it was fine,” said Belle quickly. “I just didn’t sleep all that well. I’m sure I’ll feel better once I’ve taken some exercise.”

She took up her hat, securing it on top of her hair with a pin, and drew on her coat and scarf.

“If I see Papa, I’ll tell him where you’ve gone,” said Alice, and Belle smiled to herself.

“Thank you.”

-

The air outside was crisp and cold as she left the house and took the path to the lake, gravel crunching beneath her feet and the chill from the snow already biting at her feet. She shivered, pushing her chin down into her scarf and quickening her pace as she left the relative shelter of the house and headed down the long avenue of beech trees that led to the lake. A set of footsteps marked the snow in front of her, and the tracks of birds crisscrossed the trail.

The trail turned to the right, and Belle rounded the last of the beech trees, looking down on the lake, its surface frozen in all but a few places and covered with a layer of snow. Brown reeds poked up through the ice, and she heard the cawing of rooks from the oak trees to the east of the lake. The sky was clear, the orange sun rising over the dark veil of bare branches, and a low layer of mist hung over the lake. The trail of footsteps led down to the water’s edge, and Belle broke into a smile as she saw Ogilvy making a slow circuit, picking his way through the snow with his walking cane. He seemed to sense she was there, and turned as she approached, his eyes gleaming with that soft light she loved so much.

“Good morning again,” she said lightly, stepping close to him, and he grinned.

“Miss Marchland,” he said formally, with a tiny bow. “May I say how very well you look?”

“Alice doesn’t think so,” she said dryly. “She said I looked as though I hadn’t slept at all.”

“She always was observant,” he remarked. “Goodness knows what she’d make of my appearance this morning.”

Belle covered her mouth with a gloved hand to hold in a giggle.

“Considering I had so little sleep, I feel quite - refreshed,” she said, and his grin widened.

“In that case, would you walk the rest of the way with me?”

“With pleasure.”

She took his arm, enjoying the excuse to be close to him, and they made their way along the lake shore at a steady pace.

“I’ve missed walking here,” she said. “A circuit of the lake was part of my morning routine when I lived at Furton Grange.”

“It’s a beautiful estate,” he said. “Living in town is convenient in many ways, but I must say I enjoy the peace and quiet of places like this.”

“Would you ever move out of London?” she asked, and he glanced across at her.

“It would have to be a family decision,” he said. “I feel Alice would want to stay there for a few more years. I daresay we’ll need to travel around, in any event.”

“I see.” She pursed her lips. “I think I’m rather looking forward to it. I’ve seen so little of the country since I arrived here.”

He smiled, his eyes gleaming in the early dawn.

“I want to show you everything,” he said softly, and she smiled, ducking her head as she felt her cheeks heat. Really, she had to stop blushing every time he looked at her. He was still staring at her with that tiny smile when she looked up. Belle could feel her heart thump hard at the warmth in his eyes, the look of utter devotion. How had she not seen it before? He held her gaze for a moment longer, and she could feel that pleasant tug low in her belly before he glanced away again.

“Are the children awake?” he asked. Belle nodded.

“I got them dressed. Alice is sitting with them while they have breakfast.”

“She’s a good girl,” he said, and she made a noise of agreement.

“I had some very curious looks from the maid that brought the breakfast,” she said. “I fear everyone downstairs knows how we spent our time last night.”

“Thankfully Lady Ella is a late riser,” he said. “It may mean we can slip away before she finds out.”

Belle giggled.

“Will she be very cross with me, do you think?” she asked, and he laughed.

“No, not at all,” he said. “She’ll be delighted to have been proven right and will want to interfere in the wedding plans.”

“I very much doubt she’d approve of our notion of a small and understated ceremony.”

“Certainly not.”

“Time is of the essence, then.”

He turned to face her, still smiling, and she stepped closer, until they were almost touching. Belle inhaled deeply, pulling the cold air in through her nose, sharp at the back of her throat, and let it out in a sighing plume of white.

“I almost don’t want to leave this place,” she said. “It’s so peaceful. It feels as though you and I are the only two people in existence.”

His hands rose up to cup her cheeks, fingers surprisingly warm in the cold air, and he gently pressed his brow to hers, white breath billowing into the air between them as he exhaled deeply. Belle closed her eyes, nose brushing against his, feeling the brief warmth of his breath against her lips.

“The time will fly once we return home,” he said quietly. “A little over a week, and we shall be together forever.”

“Yes,” she breathed, and he bent his head to kiss her.

She rose up on her toes, hands finding his waist and sliding up his back as the kiss deepened. The harsh caw of a rook startled them, their lips parting, and Belle giggled a little, burying her face in his chest as he kissed the top of her head.

“Perhaps we should head back to the house,” he suggested. “I want to make sure the trunks get onto the carriage in time for us to leave.”

“You really are hoping we can get away before she wakes up, aren’t you?” said Belle, amused, and he pulled a face.

“Would you prefer we had the inevitable conversation here or by letter?” he asked dryly, and she giggled again.

“An excellent point,” she admitted. “Let’s go.”

Ogilvy smiled broadly, and turned on his heel, offering his arm to her once more as they headed back to the house.

They entered the hall together, stamping a little to get the snow from their boots. Ogilvy watched Belle as she did so, cheeks pink with the cold and eyes bright, her breathing a little quicker from their walk. She was so beautiful it made his throat catch, and if Hatter and Ivy had not appeared to take their coats, hats and scarves, he would have been tempted to kiss her again. He was unwinding the soft wool from around his neck when Doc appeared by the staircase, giving him a pointed look and inclining his head in the direction of the drawing room.

“Breakfast smells delicious,” said Belle, making him glance around. “I - ah - I think I might go and see if Alice has come down yet.”

“She’s in the breakfast room,” said Doc. “Our hosts have yet to arise, I fear.”

“I should think they won’t be up this side of noon,” said Ogilvy, and nodded to Belle with a smile. “Please tell Alice we’ll join you shortly.”

Belle sent him a soft-eyed smile, biting her lower lip a little and smoothing her skirts with her hands as she hurried away. He watched her go, well aware he was probably looking like a lovesick fool.

“Shall I bring the trunks down, sir?”

Hatter’s voice made him start, and Doc snorted softly, turning on his heel and heading into the drawing room. Ogilvy turned back to his valet.

“Ah - yes,” he said vaguely. “What time did you arrange the carriage for?”

“Eleven, sir.”

“Good man.” Ogilvy clapped him on the arm. “I’ll make sure we’re ready.”

“Very good, sir.” Hatter hesitated. “I think you should know that there’s been some talk amongst the servants, sir.”

“Has there, indeed?”

“Yes, sir. About you and - and Miss Marchland.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” said Ogilvy impatiently. “As long as they keep that talk within these four walls, I’ll pay it no mind.”

“Yes, sir.” Hatter opened his mouth to speak, appeared to think better of it, and hurried off with the coat looped over his arm.

Ogilvy sighed, staring after him, then headed for the drawing room. Doc was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, looking impatient, and he turned on his toes as Ogilvy closed the door behind him.

“Well?” he demanded. “I mean, I don’t want the details, but my Sight told me to switch rooms last night and there must have been a good reason for it.”

Ogilvy smiled.

“She believes me,” he said. “She accepts it. All of it.”

Doc seemed to sag with a deep, sighing breath, his shoulders slumping.

“Oh, thank the gods!” he whispered. “She came back to us in truth.”

“Yes.” Ogilvy stepped forward, pulling him into a hug and squeezing. “She’s home. She doesn’t remember yet, but she wants to.”

“Then we must find a way,” said Doc, his voice muffled by Ogilvy’s chest.

“We will, I promise.”

“Of course.”

He hugged Ogilvy tight before pulling back, snatching off his glasses and plucking a handkerchief from his pocket to dab at his eyes.

“You told her what the Seer said?” he asked. “The unknown price for her memories?”

“Yes. She said she would think about it.”

Doc nodded, using the handkerchief to polish the lenses of his glasses before putting them back on.

“Good,” he said, his voice wobbling a little. “After all this time - gods, I can scarce believe it!”

“Nor I.” Ogilvy hesitated. “She has Elizabeth Willoughby’s diary.”

Doc stared at him, mouth open.

“She has what?” he breathed.

“I know.” Ogilvy began pacing restlessly. “She found where it was hidden at Willowbrook Grange. She - she had a dream about hiding it there. A memory, I suppose.”

“Well.” Doc shook his head. “Perhaps she’s nearer to waking than we thought. That’s encouraging. What did the diary say?”

“I didn’t read it,” said Ogilvy, stopping his pacing. “It was - somewhat tragic, I believe.”

“I imagine so.” Doc’s face was grave, and he patted Ogilvy’s arm. “Still, if it helped her realise the truth…”

“Yes.” Ogilvy took off his glasses, running his hands over his face with a sigh. “I think that was what convinced her. Elizabeth’s tales, and her own dreams, and things I had said to her… I suppose it’s good that something came from that tragedy.”

“Indeed,” said Doc quietly. “We must be thankful for that, at least.”

“Yes.” Ogilvy put the glasses back on. “I asked her to marry me, by the way. She said yes.”

“Hmm.” Doc sounded amused. “That was short work.”

“I could hardly not under the circumstances!” he retorted. “She spent the night in my bed!”

“Yes, well, we don’t need to go into the details,” said Doc hastily. “Have you mentioned anything to Alice yet?”

“No. I thought I’d talk to Alice on the train,” he said. “The servants know. One of them walked in on us this morning to light the fire. I believe Hatter heard them talking.”

“Is Belle aware?”

“Yes. She says it won’t go beyond the house. Ella will see to that.”

”As long as it doesn’t,” said Doc. “I’d hate for Belle to suffer.”

“We’re marrying as quickly as I can arrange it, so there’ll no doubt be gossip from some quarters,” he said. “Nothing too severe, I imagine, but you know how small-minded society can be.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be called away before too long, anyway,” said Doc. “That should help. Out of sight, and all that.”

“Indeed.” Ogilvy eyed him. “What do you mean, away?”

“Nothing certain yet,” admitted Doc. “Just a feeling. Give me a few days and I might have something more definite.”

Ogilvy felt an odd, swooping feeling in his stomach, almost a sense of apprehension.

“Nothing too sinister, I hope,” he said. “Dealing with Lady Tremaine’s imaginary ghosts was one thing. I don’t want Belle facing a demon before she’s ready.”

“The forces of darkness are unlikely to wait around while we teach her what she needs to know,” said Doc, in a dry tone. “I’m afraid we’ll just have to do the best we can.”

Ogilvy nodded reluctantly. The work was never-ending, and the price for failure too high. Belle is a quick learner. She’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine.

-

Lady Ella had still not risen by the time they left, and Ogilvy was secretly relieved. He had no doubt that the servants would relay everything they had seen, and while he was sure that Ella would be delighted by he and Belle being intimate (and self-satisfied at having noted their mutual attraction) he was not in the mood to be quizzed about it in front of the others. Hatter and Ivy must have known, but to their credit they gave no indication. As long as Mrs Wolfe could remain blissfully ignorant, they should be able to reach the wedding day without any scandal touching the household. Not that he gave a damn about that, but Belle no doubt would.

They managed to catch the train in plenty of time, and once they had changed at Derby to the London train, Ogilvy took the seat opposite Belle and the children. Doc settled down beside him with a sigh of relief, folding his hands over his lap as Alice squeezed in between them. Ogilvy glanced at Belle, who had Nicholas on her lap and Ava tucked beneath one arm. She smiled at him, blushing a little and dropping her eyes before looking up again, and he wanted to lean across the carriage and kiss her. Unconsciously, he began turning the ring on his finger. Belle eyed him, touched her own finger, and briefly inclined her head towards Alice and Doc. He understood, and cleared his throat, catching the attention of the others.

“Miss Marchland and I have an announcement to make,” he said, meeting Belle’s eyes to ensure she was happy for him to proceed. She smiled and nodded.

“What announcement?” asked Alice eagerly. “What’s happened?”

“She’s agreed to do me the very great honour of becoming my wife,” he said, and winced as Alice squealed in excitement, throwing her arms around him.

“Oh! That’s wonderful news!” She jumped up and almost fell on Belle, kissing her cheek. “Oh, I knew this would happen! I knew it!”

Belle laughed, hugging her before embracing each of the twins and kissing their heads.

“This is so wonderful!” said Alice. “I knew you would be a part of this family from the moment we met, I just knew it!”

“Will you still be our governess?” asked Ava, a worried look in her eyes. “You won’t send us away, will you?”

“Of course not!” said Belle soothingly. “You will always have a home with us, I promise.”

“Does this mean you’ll be our mother?” asked Nicholas, and her smile widened.

“It means we’ll be a family,” she said. “And you may call me mother if you wish.”

The twins shared an awed, delighted look, and Ogilvy bit back a grin.

“When are you getting married?” asked Alice excitedly. “Do say it’s soon! Papa has been lonely for far too long, and you’re perfect for each other.”

“I believe we can arrange it quickly enough to satisfy you,” said Ogilvy. “I shall make enquiries as soon as we return home.”

“Oh!” Alice sat down beside Belle with a thump, beaming widely. “This was the best present I could have asked for! Mrs Wolfe will be delighted. She always said you needed a woman to keep you in line.”

“I wasn’t aware that I was out of line, but very well,” remarked Ogilvy.

“Papa, you know as well as I that most people consider you very odd.”

“Then their lives are lacking in colour and variety,” he said, and she giggled.

“Oh, I can’t wait to tell Ivy! She and Hatter were convinced that—”

She cut off, mouth snapping shut.

“Convinced that what?” asked Ogilvy dryly, and a blush rose in her cheeks.

“Never mind,” she said lightly. “Oh! Belle, what will you wear to the wedding? Perhaps the dress that Madame is making for you.”

“I don’t think that will be ready in time,” said Belle. “I don’t know. You must help me choose.”

“Of course I will!”

“Can I help?” asked Ava, and Nicholas chimed in with an offer. Belle laughed, hugging them both.

“This will be the best prepared wedding in history,” she told them.

-

It was dark by the time the train pulled into London, and the carriage ride home jolted weary bodies. The children were sleepy, and Doc grumbled about the state of the roads. Only Alice had kept her cheerful disposition, and Ogilvy heard a chorus of relieved sighs as they drew up outside the house. Hatter was immediately at the carriage door to help them down, and Ogilvy spied Mrs Wolfe waiting at the front door to welcome them home. Belle guided the children towards the stairs, speaking in a soothing tone about warm milk and comfortable beds. The twins leaned against her as they climbed, and Ogilvy watched them go with a faint smile. They would probably be asleep before he could read them a story. He rolled his shoulders to get out the stiffness as Hatter removed his coat, and went through to the living room, followed by Doc and Alice, Mrs Wolfe gliding behind them.

“We’re very pleased to see you all safely returned, sir,” she said.

Ogilvy took a deep breath, the familiar scent of beeswax and burning coals filling his nose. Lamps were lit, sending out a cheerful light, and the room was pleasantly warm. The Christmas greenery had been removed from the mantelpiece, along with the tree, and he found himself missing the scents of pine and rosemary.

“It feels good to be home, Mrs Wolfe,” he said. “Anything to report?”

“The chimney above the rear attics has started to leak, and there was an incident with the grocer’s boy teasing one of the maids,” she said. “I’ve arranged to have the chimney repaired next week, and have spoken to the grocer in the most severe terms.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said. Alice flopped onto one of the couches with a sigh, and Doc sat across from her in his usual chair, head rolling back against the leather.

“Would you please ask Mrs Potts to send up some mulled wine?” he asked. “I think we could all do with a glass.”

“It’s being prepared, sir,” she said.

“I knew we could rely on you, Mrs Wolfe,” he said, earning one of her rare smiles.

“Oh, there’s a telegram for you, sir,” she said. “It came this afternoon. I left it on the salver on the hall table.”

“Ah, thank you.”

He stepped out into the hallway again, spying the envelope and opening it up. It was marked as being sent from the Furton Post Office earlier that day, and he smiled.

“I KNEW IT!” declared the note. “STRONGLY WORDED LETTER TO FOLLOW!”

Ogilvy bit his lip in amusement, slipping the telegram into his pocket and returning to the living room. Ella knew, then.

[yanderenightmare]

YANDERE ! SHIGARAKI TOMURA x FEM ! READER

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, dubcon/noncon, abuse, anxiety, drugging, guilt, kidnapping, abduction, 

FATE

It was fate. That’s what he’d said. It was a rather brief encounter. She woke up, in a bed that was not her own, in a dark room devoid of windows, smelled a smell she could only be describe as dust, with a man she didn’t quite recognize. He lurked in the corner, quietly observing her in her slumber. Wanting so badly to touch her, because he knew he could. And he had, until that nagging feeling of guilt surfaced and he forced himself to retract his hand from traveling up her thigh and confined himself to the corner of the room. His fingers itching to touch her soft, warm skin. He admonished himself for using too much of the drug, perhaps she would have woken up already if he’d been more careful, but he figured it was a safety measure that had to be done, otherwise she might’ve woken up before he’d gotten her to his room. And what was worse was that when she did finally wake up he didn’t have much time to explain. He was happy she didn’t scream, but that could have been the drug. She most certainly wasn’t as docile when he came back.

That was a while ago now. Or… at least it felt that way to him. He was so itchy. Seeing her every day. And only barely being allowed to touch her didn’t help. In fact, it only made him that much more itchy. He tried his best to be kind, to be understanding. Not wanting her to grow bored in his absence. He’d even allowed her access to his console and games, however offline. But there was hope; she seemed to have accepted the situation more now. She had at least stopped screaming and struggling and using every second on trying to escape. He felt that maybe she was more inclined to be with him now, after spending so many hours alone. He wished she wouldn’t fight him. He really didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but… he was just so itchy.

She cursed her quirk. It had always been a nuisance. At the doctors she had to file for traditional check-ups because no healing quirk could surpass her immunity. It was a joke at best. Quirks couldn’t touch her. When it came to Tomura, she definitely saw it as a cruel joke. Without her quirk he had the power to kill her on the spot, however with her quirk the monster had fallen in love with her, clung to her as though she were the only person left on earth. What was worse was that she actually sympathized with him. “It must be a terribly lonely existence.” That’s what she’d said to him under their first encounter. This, however, by no means meant she was going to willingly become his little pet. She struggled throughout the entirety of her first day, screaming her lungs out, crying her eyes out, kicking until she had no more energy to give and then fallen asleep, only to have awoken with his arms slung around her, tightly gripping onto her as though his life depended on it. That day too, she’d thrashed and sneered when he tried touching her. However, there came the third day… when he snapped.

This was yesterday. She woke up with her wrist tied snuggly together above her head, more rope connecting them to the bedpost. A product of his growing impatience. She began hysterically crying once he climbed on top of her, begging him, pleading, bargaining, saying his name as though he were some type of malicious God she had to satisfy.

And although he’d gone through the lengths and extremities of threatening to kill all her acquaintances to quit her objections, he couldn’t go through with it. Again, he didn’t want her to feel abused. He didn’t want to cause her any pain nor be the reason behind her tears. He didn’t want her to fear him or hate him, he wanted the opposite. He adored her. All he wanted was some peace of mind, and she served as his only sanctuary.

He hadn’t fully realized how badly he wanted her before he held her in his arms throughout that entire night. He always enjoyed sleep, but with her lying against him it became nothing short of heaven. With her wrists still tied together, there was little she could do to stop him, his death threats still lingering in the air, when he started decaying every piece of clothing. Feeling the tremors run through her. The quaking as his hands danced up her exposed skin, playing with what they found. Feeling her recoil into him each time he would, in his amateurism, pinch too hard. He thought of her continuous quivering as similar to when a puppy wags its tail, to distract himself from what it really indicated. It was easy to forget himself when she was soft like velvet and smooth like silk and warm like life itself up against him. He didn’t do much more. Untying her before he had to go. Watching her rub her sore wrists made his stomach fold in guilt when he left this morning. He apologized, but she didn’t answer.

Stealing her was selfish, he could admit that, but he would make it up to her if she only allowed him one little taste…

She sat on the bed when he came back, wet hair dripping onto the sheets. She showered before he came, an attempt to wash the night off her, it only mildly irked him. He couldn’t stay mad though, not when she was sitting there so preciously with his black hoodie on, looking at him with such wide, glossy eyes. He kept the room dark; light irritated his skin, and he didn’t want to feel anything but comfort when he was with her. Besides, maybe the dark could make him seem just a little bit more appealing. She still flinched when he made to touch her.

Not wanting to scare her, he decided to kneel down instead. Enjoying how her feet didn’t meet the ground when she sat propped up on the bed. Taking her ankles, delicately gliding his fingers around them, and placed them on top of his thighs. Not letting go. He leaned his forehead against her knee, feeling as though her warm skin was absolution itself, a paradise of some sorts. She didn’t say anything, but the uncontrolled breaths were loud enough to indicate her fear. She was the one person he couldn’t harm, yet somehow, she seemed more afraid than anyone else. He would’ve laughed, but it wouldn’t have helped.

He dragged his fingers alongside her legs and came to a halt at her knees, wanting to part them. He hadn’t given her anything to wear, not seeing the point as they would probably be disintegrated anyway. She hadn’t taken the opportunity to put on one of his boxers either. All the clothes she came in were a pile of ash, thanks to him. In other words; his hoodie was the only thing she was wearing. How could he possibly hold himself back? It was almost as though she meant to antagonize him.

She felt the pressure he added to his fingertips, her knees slowly starting to spread. She curled her toes, a small whimper spluttering past her lips. She knew she shouldn’t have, but she stopped him. Taking his hands in hers. He didn’t seem all too provoked. Giving him a desperate look, one that was met with an even stronger, hungrier desperation. He leaned his chin on her knee, observing with a curious look as she intertwined her fingers with his. It was a weak attempt, but he seemed subdued. It was only for a brief moment.

“This is nice...” It reverberated through her legs, his Adam’s apple bobbing up against her kneecap. “But…” It came only a second later, however it sounded so much darker. It was such a heavy word, one laced with a sense of defeat, an apology. “I need more.” He’s fast, it only took a second before she was on top of him. Quickly propping her legs up around his waist and lifting, turning them around so she could sit firmly slotted in his lap. She knew not to struggle. He was still dangerous. Slender, but not without muscle. He was lanky and tall and above all else; devoted. There was no stopping him.

Her shoulders still grazed, although she tried to calm herself. For some reason she still didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Didn’t want to upset him. It didn’t take long before he disintegrated the hoodie, earning a tremor and a gasp from her. The feeling waved over him. He would have enjoyed it, but he was much too surprised to find yet another piece of clothing beneath. Surprised, only slightly disappointed. It was like unwrapping a present, he humored silently to himself.

He could tell it was best to go slow, in order not to break the shell. He didn’t want her to cry, and he was sure if he did too much too fast, she would almost certainly start bawling. Giving into simply brushing the now settled dust off her, yet quickly getting carried away. Digging his calloused fingers into the doughy flesh of her thighs, all very slowly, enjoying himself carefully. He was still getting used it, marveling at how she didn’t fall apart under his touch. Still, he wanted more, he needed more. He glid his hands up the sides of her waist and she started shaking. Trembling knees, caused trembling thighs and so on and so forth, and the feeling of her quaking against him felt nothing short of unhinging. His mouth watered and he had to swallow, trying his best to pace his breathing, failing however, it only made him sound that much more crazed.

“Tomura…” It was a small attempt at a protest, especially when he quite enjoyed the sound of his name drip so sweetly off her tongue. Anyone else with the same ambitions would probably have ignored it, but he wanted her to understand. To understand that she was more than a toy to him, that she was godsend. He didn’t want her hurt, he wanted something else. And that’s why he chose words.

“People die when I touch them.” He didn’t look into her eyes, not sure what would stare back at him. He didn’t want to see plead, or… he didn’t want to take pleasure in her pleading. “So, I’ve kept my hands to myself.” She wasn’t sure if he believed that his actions were justifiable. She wasn’t sure if it were himself or her he was trying to fool. “I haven’t touched anyone…” It sounded desperate. “Felt anyone…” It sounded broken. “For so long.” It was hard not to sympathize. It was hard to be angry at him. “I’ve stayed away.” She almost felt the urge to hug him. “Only touching people when its necessary.” If he’d given her just a few more days, then perhaps she would have. “I feel like I deserve this.” It came out hungry. It was raw and untamed and wrong.

The sympathy nearly vanished at that. It wasn’t her fault that he was like this. It wasn’t her burden, and yet here she was, like some sacrifice to a hungry god. Her hands pressured against his chest, in an obvious strive to make him release her. His hands tightened.

“Tomura, please…” Though he liked her voice, he didn’t care for her pleas. It wasn’t something he wanted to hear, because he was sure; if he tasted her begging just once, he was certain he’d find that he didn’t actually mind, that he… would rather enjoy it instead.

“It’s either this or something highly unpleasant.” His eyes met hers.

She was shocked at how fast his mood changed; like a child when you take away one of their toys or refuse to play with them. The first tear fell at that, his hand rose from its position to wipe it away, before he planted it back on her hip, rubbing the wetness onto her skin. Feeling like a pioneer of some sorts, having never done anything like it before.

“You know I’ve never bruised anyone.” His voice was different, wintry and empty. “Never made art on someone else’s skin.” It only got darker. “Not without them turning to ash…” His gaze fell back onto her hips, his fingers planting themselves more firmly into her. “I’ve never beaten anyone to a pulp.” His eyes seemed to partly stare at what purple galaxy he could make form under his nails. “They just up and disappear before I get the chance to.” On the other part he was staring into some unknown future; untapped desires, dark desires, violent desires. “I’ve never slapped anyone.” She braced herself, expected him to spank her. “Never felt anyone’s trembling skin.” She was positively trembling; she was quaking. “Never truly felt it.” He sounded desperate again. The icy tone was almost completely gone, turning yet again into something broken. “Not all of it.” It was only barely above a whisper. “Don’t you see?” His eyes were wide, full of something akin to ambition; hope? “You were made for me.” It wasn’t hope, it was resolution.

He kept burying his nails into her hips, so much it started to hurt. She got the feeling he was waiting for her to make a move, perhaps he was struggling to do so himself? And when she finally felt herself wincing at the pain, with his blood-red eyes digging into her soul, much like his fingers on her sides, she reached out and kissed him. Whimpering and leaning in closer, yet his fingers only barely relented. Her hands; limp at her sides, made to circle around his neck, softly entangling in his silvery locks. In the briefest moment she wanted to pull at it, drag him away from her, but she didn’t. She kept kissing, lightly sucking on his bottom lip. He moaned a strained groan, but his fingers only ceased their iron-grip when she pushed her chest flush against his. They then moved to her lower back, and then lower, finding their way down slowly, and squeezed at what they found down there, earning yet another whimper from her, although, when received by his mouth, much to his enjoyment, it sounded like a moan. He pulled her closer at that, grinding her against him. What she felt grind up against her, despite layers of fabric in between, scared her. His hands traveled again, this time upwards. Meeting her second shirt before there was no longer any shirt to meet, the cold air nipping at her exposed self.

As if shocked out of her state, she struggled again, but only for a moment. He was so fast. Before she even knew what was happening, she was firmly pinned beneath him, his hands locked around her wrists, tightening his hold until she gave him an apologetic look. He loosened them at that, but didn’t let go, not yet. Eyes flickering between hers and her lips, his thumb rubbing over the soft skin where her veins were stored on her wrists. He went in slowly, wanting her to half-initiate it herself, when she did without protest, without him threatening her, he lost it. Crashing into her, kissing, licking, biting as though he were starved. His hands moved with him, stroking down her arms tenderly, revering at the softness of what was found beneath his fingertips. She didn’t move her hands from above her head, didn’t know where to place them if she did.

He went exploring with his mouth. Down her neck, nipping at her collarbone. She expected his tongue to be dry like the rest of him, it wasn’t. Wet and sloppy; drooling was a better word for it. He left trails of himself down her chest. His hands, with steadily more and more added pressure, cupped one of her breasts, pinching and playing with the perky nib found there. His other hand got to work on disintegrating his pants, and then his shirt, and then nothing else was left to destroy. Except the bed, but he would break that in as well, in some other creative way. Her chest heaved more and more, frantically begging for more air; panicking. He decided to think of it as her wanting to get closer. He certainly was. Now that there was no more obstruction from his skin and hers, he struggled to not drop his entire weight onto her.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do, but ended up not thinking about it too much, settling for doing what he felt like doing. His hands groping, messaging, rubbing each breast. His tongue fluttering at how her perky nipple tickled him when he sucked and flicked over it. Her hands sprung forward to push him off when he bit too hard, though he caught them easily, pinning them down to her sides, deciding to ignore the act and continue with his exploration.

She started crying now, trying to keep quiet as much as she could, yet he heard the sniffles and tiny hiccups. He let go of her wrists again, watching as she gripped the sheets tightly, trying to hold back. Staring at the ceiling, studying the smooth, white surface. Thinking how her life no longer belonged to her.

It was strange, he was more bothered by the fact that he didn’t care whether she cried or not. Of course, he preferred it if she enjoyed herself too, but as long as he made the itchy feeling beneath his skin go away, he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty. As much as he wanted to be patient for her, he couldn’t wait any longer. Grabbing himself and placing the tip of his cock at her entrance.

“Tomura-” She protested, knowing how this couldn’t possibly be pretty. She wasn’t remotely wet, and he didn’t really seem about to assist with any moisture himself. But he couldn’t care more for her begging. Catching her wrists with one hand as he continued with what he was doing.

“I already told you-” He hissed, but she cut him off before he could threaten her a second time.

“Let me help.” Her voice was a soft kind of desperate. He’d been too frenzied to realize that she wasn’t really struggling or fighting him. Her large eyes found his in a feeble attempt to break through whatever craze he was in. Letting go of her wrists gave her the answer to her request. He sat up and she followed, crawling out from beneath him. About to grab her and place her back, he halted when he saw her coming back completely on her own volition. Her hands pressed softly against his chest, asking him to lower himself onto the pillows behind him. “Lie down.” And, although they were worded like demands, they didn’t sound that way whatsoever coming from her. He did what she said nonetheless, eyeing her every move, on high alert, ready to grab her if she were to run and lock herself in the bathroom. He was truly expecting anything else than her soft, warm and wet lips sliding down his cock in an almost loving fashion. Brows furrowed abruptly, mouth apart as he let out a long, shaky, gasping moan. Fingers stretching and curling into the sheets. Only barely keeping his wits with him to raise his pinky above the others, in order not to destroy whatever heaven he was in.

She’d placed herself between his thighs. On her knees with her ass raised up into the air, her head bowed and bobbing up and down on his shaft. Her hands supporting her on his stomach. Touching him. Like worship, he thought, looking down at her working hard to please him. With that thought simmering though his mind, he found the courage to ruffle his fingers through her hair. Refraining from adding any pressure, not assisting her in any way. He simply messaged and stroked and felt her eager movements on him. Heavenly sounds of sloshing and gurgling and slobbering and struggling filled the room as she continued going down, hollowing out her cheeks, running her tongue up and down, from side to side around him almost hungrily.

Toes curling into the sheets beneath him. Head thrown back onto the comfort of the pillows. He focused on the warm walls tightening around him, the wetness that slid up and down his cock, the tip of him pushing against her throat, begging to go deeper. He hadn’t meant it… how his hips jerked in the slightest attempt to push himself further down her throat. It was far from a real thrust, but it was no less noticeable. She took the hint, choking him all the way down to the hilt, feeling him bend down her throat. Gagging on him, her knees shifted, tempted to lie down on her stomach, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, but she held back and kept sucking, with him all the way down her throat, until she finally let herself breathe.

Mesmerized by her sudden performance, his eyes glued onto her, delighted to see a string of drool connecting her lips to his cock when she tore away. It didn’t take long before she dove back in. Her one hand shifting from its place on his chest to fondle his balls, playing with them in her palm. Her tongue gliding up and down, licking the sides of him, giving each of his balls a suck and a kiss each time she went all the way down.

He was moaning and groaning fervently, his eyes nearly traveling all the way back into his skull. His toes cramping in their curled state. Being so lost in the moment. Before he even realized she had stopped, she’d placed her knees on the outside of either side of him. Her hand continuing to stroke him, with her other hand playing and messaging her own clit, preparing herself. She hovered above him. He started feeling cold upon the lack of contact, but the chill was soon replaced as he pushed inside her folds.

They moaned simultaneously this time. His was closer to a growl, whereas hers was more of a whimper. She sat there for a second, trying to get used to his length and size inside her, trying to make it all feel more comfortable, before she started riding. Slow, deep, heavy riding, letting the cock inside her hit every spot that had her nearly mewling. Bucking her hips forward, rolling onto him, with her hands once again placed on his chest. She couldn’t look at him, feeling so dirty and guilty for the building knot inside her stomach, the one that was now constantly teased by his large member inside her. She closed her eyes instead, not thinking of the circumstances, focusing on how insanely good it felt to be stretched out and filled to the very brink, despite not really wanting to think about it at all.

He, however, was staring at her as though it was the first time he ever truly saw anyone. He was so caught up in the moment, he’d forgotten about the deadly touch lingering in his fingers all together. So very spellbound by how her small, soft, delicate hands touched him, how her hair fell down her shoulders and tickled the skin on her breasts, how her brows had equally furrowed together as his own, how her lashes fluttered and lips parted even more with each beautiful moan that escaped them. He barely even registered how her hands picked his hands up and placed them on her hips for him so that he could rock her at his own tempo.

His grip didn’t tighten as she had suspected them to, they didn’t grope or poke as they did earlier. They hung loosely on top of her thighs, his thumbs stroking over her hips in encouragement of everything she was doing.

Placing her hands back on his stomach, she stroked up his chest and throat to lock her fingers in his silver hair. Her chest brushing up against his as she started kissing and sucking at his neck. Bracing herself by propping her feet up under her legs. Rocking her hips faster, no longer just rolling, but jumping up and down on her knees, all still rather graciously, done with somewhat expertise. He groaned at the sudden increase in tempo, his hands traveling on their own over her hips to grip at the plump flesh of her behind.

He knew he was much less experienced than her, but at least he knew what he wanted as well. Slowly getting over the surprise that had currently knocked him into shock and awe, he decided to gain more control. Especially now that he felt himself slip away and near his end. He pushed his thighs up, making her shift further up on him. She only moaned in response to him strapping his hands around her torso and lifting them both up into a sitting position, with her nuzzling perfectly in his lap. He ran his hands down her back and cupped her thighs, raising her up to tangle her legs around him. Now, sitting on his knees, he made to thrust into her and slap her back on his cock without her having any control over the new current of the motion.

He moaned savagely, feeling complete bliss befall him like a wave. She clung to him, actually clung to him for dear life, and it felt so fucking heavenly to feel her continue to nibble and suck and lick and kiss at the scars he’d created on his neck. With her arms wrapped around his back as though she couldn’t bear to let go. It was too much. She was too much. He couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t last any longer. He dropped her down onto the bed again, his cock slipping out and into his grip as he pumped the last few pumps it took before he came. Ropes of milky liquid sprouted from his cock and fell over her stomach, before he collapsed back onto her. His cheek pressed against her chest. Hot and heavy breaths brushed across her stomach. Drool slipping down from his mouth and onto her breast.

She didn’t dare move, despite feeling the wanton urge to touch herself until she as well peaked her orgasm. She remained still, or at least tried to, but it was hard when the fire within her stomach demanded attention. She tried to keep the quaking under wraps, but it was impossible. He hummed against her chest upon the feeling, it almost turned into a chuckle. He had clearly gained his confidence, acting all smug and cocky when he motioned his hand to rub at her clit. She jolted upon the touch, moaning and arching her back up against him. He kissed a quick trail down her stomach, everything sprawled out for him to see and touch as he so pleased. She was nearly begging when his eyes met hers. “Let me help you.” It was mockingly sweet, but she found she quite liked the sound of it. His thumb rubbing circles upon the sensitive spot, as he lowered his mouth to lick between the folds. She moaned brazenly, her fingers again tousling into his hair. He propped her one leg up over his shoulder, gaining more access.

She felt the pulsating, roaring, drooling sensation build and build until it nearly hurt, her hips lolling into him between her legs. His tongue running and delving into her, his teeth lightly and teasingly nipping at the tender flesh. Sucking until she let out that last earthshattering moan, her body convulsing in spasms and violent quakes. He gave a couple more licks to her clit and felt her panic beneath him, much to his enjoyment. He didn’t torture her oversensitivity for too long, before he climbed back up and nuzzled into her neck. Happy when he felt her fingers stroking his head again; affectionately.

No more words were exchanged. The presence of night laid thickly inside the room. The both of them unable to keep their lids open, not really fighting of the sleep that soon overwhelmed them either. Skin to skin. Heartbeat to heartbeat. They fell asleep soundly. And when Tomura woke up the next day, their limbs tangled together in one comfortable knot, he felt as though it might have been the very first time he actually felt rested.

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

Leona x Reader: Insecurities

This was an angst/comfort story I’ve been meaning to write up for a while now. I finally finished it and am a little iffy about how the ending turned out, but I needed to get it done so I could move on to some other requests. There’s also a hint in there about a future personal headcanon prompt that I will write up when I get the chance. 

Rated M because of a reference to bad language and the black market for women (it’s very brief and for the most part subtle but I’m just warning you)

Warnings: angst, language, violence, kidnapping, fem!reader, mention of sexual slavery

If you would like to know what Kahaba means you can research it online. It is swahili but it is an inappropriate word and isn’t necessary for the plot line.

   The flowers swayed lightly in the breeze, spreading their natural perfume across the area. You inhaled deeply and sighed. The sun felt lovely on your face and bare shoulders. 

   The shirt you wore had no sleeves, only straps which criss crossed in an elegant pattern on your back. A string of beads fell across your chest and the pants you wore were thin and billowy. You had received the outfit on the morning of your second day at the castle. Despite your boyfriend's lack of royal manners, he was still the second prince of the savannah and so you were treated like royalty as well. 

   Now you stood in the castle gardens all by yourself, per your request, and simply enjoyed the peacefulness of the area around you. It had been a long week filled with feasts and parties that left you utterly exhausted. It was no wonder that Leona wanted to sleep all the time. You couldn’t imagine how anyone who didn’t have the energy of an eight year old could live in such a bustling environment. 

   The amount of maids and guards that seemed to follow you everywhere was simply ridiculous. You were plenty capable of taking care of yourself and it wasn’t like any bad people were after you anyways. You doubted that most outsiders even knew you existed, much less the fact that you were spending the holidays in the castle. After much persuasion you had convinced them to leave you be, for at least thirty minutes in the gardens. Nothing could possibly go wrong in that amount of time. Turns out you were wrong. 

   A whistling sound quickly came to your attention and something whizzed past your ear. “What?” Another whistling sound drew your attention and you turned to check what could possibly be coming at you. A searing pain made itself known in your shoulder. You grabbed it quickly and yelped. Your eyes looked around for the source of your pain and landed on an arrow embedded in the ground. 

   Confusion and fear spread through your body as another arrow latched onto your leg. You shut your eyes in pain and cried out as your leg buckled. No, I have to run. Goddamnit instincts now is not the time to take a break. Adrenaline should have had you up and running by now but instead your body felt sluggish. It didn’t take long to figure out what had happened. As numbness spread through your shoulder and leg you fought valiantly against the sedatives which worked quickly to put you down. 

   The gardens blurred into a painting of abstract colors and you distantly noticed a person approaching you. “Why...sleepy...who…” Your voice slurred your words till they were nearly intangible and you felt the last sparks of fight being extinguished. Patches of black dotted your vision as you sank into the vulnerable sleep that you knew could be your demise.

-------

   Bubbles. Bubbles were forming underneath you and pushing you towards the surface. It was a pleasant feeling but you couldn’t help but notice the worry that gnawed on your heart as the surface approached. You knew that above the water was where you had to go, and yet a part of you didn’t want to leave the comfortable warmth that the water provided. As the surface drew near you began to understand why you didn’t want to escape the water. A dull pain in your shoulder and leg quickly turned into a harsh sting. Your head throbbed and bright light stabbed at your eyelids in an attempt to damage the fragile pupils hidden behind them.

   Finally and regrettably you were pushed through the top of the water and flung into consciousness. As if you really had needed air you started panting and coughing violently. Your throat was dry and your lungs constricted painfully every time you wheezed in another breath. After a few more minutes of hacking you realized it was probably due to the temperature in the room. Each of your fingers and toes were numb to the point where they would barely respond and unconscious shivers wracked your body. 

   “Ha look who woke up!” A voice echoed through the room and made you wince as your head throbbed in response to the high volume. A man in about his thirties chuckled and made his way over to you. As a first response you struggled, trying to put distance between yourself and the stranger. It didn’t work however since you were tightly tied to a chair. The man chuckled and leaned down so he could look straight into your eyes. 

   “You poor thing. I had originally planned on kidnapping you for ransom but it turns out that the royal family isn’t all that interested in having you back.” Your blood ran cold. No. He’s lying. Leona probably has people out looking for you at this very moment. 

   “I can see you trying to convince yourself that I’m bluffing. It’s truly unfortunate. I really could have used the money. However, you are attractive and young enough that I should be able to fetch a pretty penny for you on the black market.” You squirmed and flinched backwards when his hot, rank breath hit your face. You hoped he planned on using the money for dental hygiene. Not that it mattered. Leona would rescue you. After all he loved you.

   “Leona will come for me. He loves me just as I love him. There’s no chance in hell that you will be allowed to get away with this!” The man stepped back at your outburst and looked surprised for a moment before breaking down into hysterical laughter. 

   “Oh man that is one of the best things I have ever heard,” he trembled, trying to contain himself, “I contacted your so called lover and he told me it wasn’t worth his time. Said he would rather take a nap than deal with this. Your prince has made his decision and I have made mine. You will be a fine slave, as long as we cut off that worthless tongue.”

   You wrestled with the ropes harder in a desperate attempt to escape. Tears slipped down your cheeks and thoughts of hopelessness invaded your mind. Would Leona really do that to me? Of course he would. It’s all been a lie. He doesn’t love me. He’s too lazy to love anyone. That stupid lion! Mentally you shushed yourself. These thoughts were ridiculous. The man was obviously bluffing. This man is a kidnapper you can’t trust anything he says. 

   A ring drew your attention back to the man in front of you. He had gotten much closer and was now standing directly in front of you. The sound of a facetime call being received echoed in the dark room. 

   “What?” An annoyed but familiar voice came through the phone and you smiled realizing who it was. It would all be over soon. Leona would come for you and you would be safe. 

   “Good afternoon your majesty,” a growl reverberated through the device, “I am giving you one last chance, give me what I want and you can have the girl. If not,” the man flipped open a knife and pressed against your cheek. He dragged the tip of the blade down to your lips, leaving a ribbon of crimson behind. “I’ll take her tongue and her body. Don’t you think she would make a fine kahaba, prince of the savannah?” 

   A sigh came and you could almost imagine your boyfriend rolling his eyes. You nodded to yourself to try and reassure yourself that he would come for you no matter what. “For the last time she’s expendable. Do what you wish but don’t call me again. I have a date with my bed.” 

   The beep of the call ending cut through the tension in the air and confirmed the man's claims. Dread and hopelessness bubbled up in your stomach and filled you with horror. He really never loved you. The realization numbed your cheek and the rope burns on your skin. Leona’s words repeated themselves in your head. 

   Distantly you registered your kidnapper reaching for you. There was hardly any response when he roughly grabbed your chin and forced your lips apart. Two dry and bitter tasting fingers yanked your tongue forward and you whimpered in response. The man chuckled and pulled the knife back out, although you could barely see what he was doing through your tears. 

   “Now stay still Kahaba, we wouldn’t want to further damage that pretty face of yours now would we.” The man raised his hand and you squeezed your eyes shut as a stinging sensation hit your tongue.

----------

   Startled, you opened your eyes and instinctively reached up to feel your tongue. The muscle was still intact although you did taste blood in your mouth. Feeling around your mouth, you realized that it wasn’t a knife that had sliced your tongue, it had been your teeth. A sigh of relief left you. 

   Quickly you realized that you weren’t tied to a chair and you weren’t in a damp room. You were in a large and finely decorated room. It was dark but not pitch black since moonlight and starlight filtered through the open windows. A calming breeze blew in past the beaded curtains making your skin prickle in response. 

   It was then that you noticed your shivering. The savannah often had pleasant weather even at night and your soft sheets and blankets had kept you comfortably warm without being overbearing. Although the days had been almost sweltering, the night was a very enjoyable temperature. Nothing to illicit shivering on the level that you were. It became apparent that you were not so much shivering, more trembling. 

   A nightmare. That’s all that it was. You wrapped your arms around yourself and moved out of the bed so you could get to the bathroom. The light stung your eyes but you bared it until they adjusted. Splashing cool water on your face you let your mind wander back to the contents of your dream. Soon tears slipped down your cheeks and into the porcelain sink below. 

   “Kahaba” The word echoed through your mind and you sobbed harder. Shaking you sunk to the floor and stifled a cry in your palm. The cold tile reflected your image and let you see how pathetic you looked. Crying over a dream. No wonder Leona didn’t love you. The cries stopped as you paused. But Leona does love me. It was all just a dream so why am I worrying. Sniffing you repeated the logic in your head as you cleaned up your face and tended to your puffy eyes. If you went to sleep like this then they would surely be red and irritated for the rest of the day. 

   A sigh left your lips once you had calmed down enough to feel tired. Willing yourself not to think about the nightmare you laid down and attempted to find sleep. Yet as hard as you tried, sleep would not come.

----------

   Leona growled when he sensed another presence in his room. He sat up and glared into the darkness. His cat eyes quickly adjusted allowing him to spot his sister in law standing by his bed. His growls ceased and he raised a questioning eyebrow. It was unlike her to enter his room in the first place, nevermind the middle of the night. 

   Scenarios clouded Leona’s head as he remembered that you were staying in the palace as well. Normally if something happened he would only find out about it afterwards or if his help was needed, but if something had happened to you then naturally as your lover he would be informed immediately. 

   “What happened? Is everything alright? Is it y/n? Is she hurt?” Farena’s wife shushed him and held up a hand. 

   “Y/n is unharmed although I do believe she had a nightmare.” Leona relaxed and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was walking by on my way to bed when I picked up sounds of crying from her room.” He tensed up again. Crying? You had never mentioned having nightmares before. 

   “Thank you for letting me now.” He said before she left the room. He pushed his covers off despite his body telling him to lay back down. The hallway was dimly lit so it didn’t disturb his eyes while also being easy to travel. When he made it to your room he leaned his ear against the door and listened carefully. He picked up on the sounds of your breathing and noticed that they were fast and inconsistent breaths. Despite the fact that he couldn’t hear you crying he could pick up on your distress scent and your body was obviously coming down from a panicked state. 

   Leona carefully pushed open the door and your breathing stopped. Knowing that you had already noticed his entrance, he sighed and closed the door behind him. The prince made his way over to you and laid down on your bed behind you. The mattress dipped and shifted as your boyfriend's warmth moved closer. He wrapped his arms around your stiff form and pressed against your back, whispering a low “relax” in your ears before you finally let your tense body unravel itself. 

   Minutes of silence passed where the only things heard were your mixed breathing and the occasional rustle of sheets. Then Leona rolled onto his back and pulled you so your head was on top of his chest. You gasped and froze. His heartbeat thrummed in your ear and you could feel the rise and fall of his ribs with every breath. 

   “What was your nightmare about?” You were shocked to find out Leona knew about your nightmare, but you supposed someone could have heard you crying through the walls. For a moment you lay there quietly, trying to determine how you should explain it to him. When you felt that you had gained enough confidence, you started at the beginning of your dream and recited the events that followed. 

   When you got to the part where Leona decided that he didn’t need you, Leona growled and tightened his grip on you. By the time you finished you felt like crying again and you were sure your face was burning with shame. It was hard to admit weakness to anyone, let alone Leona. He probably thought that the dream was for the most part right, and that you were too weak to be an adequate mate for him. 

   The lion man sighed.

   “Well let me start by saying that the dream you had is a load of bull,” he mentally winced at how harsh he sounded. He had never been good at this kind of stuff. “I would never let you get kidnapped. Nevermind leave you there.” his tone softened and he tilted your chin up. “Listen, I’m not good with words and things, but I do understand my feelings for you clearly, and you mean so much more to me than anything has. I would never sleep again if it meant keeping you safe.” Your eyes widened at this. “I love you. Nothing is ever going to change or get in the way of that.” 

   Taking a moment to process what he had said, a thought struck you. 

   “Leona? You don’t think I’m weak do you?” The lion stiffened then relaxed beneath you.

   “Of course not my little herbivore. I believe that you are very strong in ways that other people aren’t. Even me.” You smiled and nuzzled into his chest. Your insecurities had been proven incorrect and you suddenly felt exhausted after all that worrying. Underneath you, Leona began to purr as your breathing evened out. Tomorrow he would console you further, but for now, he was happy to see you rest.

[extravaguk]

santa&prada

part of my opposites attract! series. 

ksj / knj / myg / jhs / kth / jjk

pairing: rich!jimin x reader

summary: Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.

wordcount: 5k

genre: smut - angst(? - fluff (? idk u tell me

rated: m 

warnings: a christmas fic in late november, cursing, a huge misunderstanding lmao, i call jimin ‘park jimin’ too many times bc i felt like it, car sex, oral (f recieving), some good ole spanking, (kinda) rough and unprotected sex, a lil of dirty talk, spit kink. thats about it. just an excuse to write jimin fucking you in a car. jimin is not as bad as oc thinks srsly.

The first time you meet Park Jimin is through mutual friends. On a firday night on December, with white, red and green lights decorating the streets of New York, filled with the typical hustle of the masses doing last minute Christmas shopping, the freezing weather impacting your body temperature, cursing yourself for choosing tights, a skirt and heeled boots that are too pretty but too uncomfortable to wear.

You had never considered yourself a particular enthusiast of Christmas festivities. You guess discovering Santa Claus was, actually, your parents before the rest of the kids in your class was one of the many reasons that made you grow up too soon and therefore, not allowing you to fully enjoy the month of December. Or maybe it had nothing to do with Santa, and more to do with your parents deciding to get a divorce a day before Christmas Eve. A traumatic event for seven year old you, but completely forgotten and overcome by twenty-four year old present you.

Growing up each Christmas suffering the consecuences of a shared custody would have probably had a disastrous effect on anybody else, but not you. Although the separation was a tough reality to accept at first, fortunately your parents were always capable of raising you in an environment full of love and affection, just like any other kid. And you prided yourself on having moved on from those circumstances a long time ago (even if your therapist disagreed and blamed many of your behaviors on it. Whatever.)

To put it simply, December was just not the month for you. It was just another month, like the remaining eleven of the year, except Mariah Carey's voice was heard every five minutes everywhere you'd go and people gave each other presents as if it was only during that time of the year when they remembered their loved ones. 

The only thing you could thank Christmas for were the well deserved two weeks of holidays our work allowed until the new year's arrival. Fifteen days of rest, peace and baking those gingerbread cookies that Seokjin died for and that you sincerely denoted as nauseating.

You truly had no idea what exactly you did wrong that night. You don't know if it was something you said, or something you did, but what you did know was that Park Jimin pursued a silent and personal vendetta against you that continued nowadays.

"Here are your disgusting cookies, you filthy animal." it might have been that very first sentence you said when you entered the bar and reunited with your friends that didn't cause a good impression. "Shit, it's cold as fuck. My nipples are harder than my life." or maybe it was your selection of words while you waved every familiar face hello until you stopped to look at the only (pretty. too pretty, as well) one you had never seen before.

"_____, it's Chrismtas! Santa Clause will only bring you a lump of coal if you keep cursing like that!" Lisa laughed while she kissed your cheek and made space for you to sit next to her. "Oh, by the way, this is Jimin. A friend of Namjoon. He's a newbie!"

Park Jimin was stunning, you had no trouble admitting that. You weren't blind, you weren't stupid, and you could go as far as theorize that his dark eyes, his light and always immaculate styled hair, his sharp jawline and those plump lips as red as cherries must have been sculpted by Satan himself.

Fuck, you were even sure you'd be on your knees in front of Park Jimin in an alternative universe begging for his dick inside your mouth. But in the universe where you and the real Park Jimin reside, he would never come near you unless somebody was aiming a gun into his skull.

You're not precisely sure what it was, but a brief exchange of glances and an evasive and sligh shake of hands with Park Jimin was enough to make you feel ashamed and withdrawn for the rest of the night.

If Jimin wasn't even able to drop a polite "Nice to meet you", he sure as hell wasn't able to pretend you even existed.

Even the small talk you had tried to engaged with him about his shiny pair of shoes went terribly wrong.

"Oh, are those Dolce and Gabbana?"

"Dolce and Gabbana are homphobic, racist and sexist, so no" the grimace on his face should've been enough to make you regret speaking to him in the first place , but the snarky voice of his made you want to run away and hide from him until next Christmas.

In reality, you swore you didn't care. Seriously. Other's opinions were never something that could easily bother you or keep you awake at night. You had always turned a deaf ear to the cruel children that made fun of you due to your parent's divorce, you had always ignored the amount of men that never considered you "ladylike" enough (what the fuck did that even mean, anyway? what exactly made a lady and what didn't?), and you had always disregarded any envous comment surrounding you.

So, fuck Park Jimin! You had said to yourself. He's just a well mannered rich boy. Somebody who didn't resemble you in any aspect. A stupid, pretentious, spoiled boy who's had everything he's ever wanted in the palm of his hand, unlike you. Who the fuck cares what Park Jimin thinks? 

But apparently, you did. 

You would have never placed such importance to whatever it was that roamed inside Jimin's head if his appearances in your group of friends hadn't been so recurrent.

Because each time you were forced to see Jimin's face, you were also forced to experience a strange knot of discomfort and humilliation growing in your stomach in his mere presence. It's not like Jimin did anything specific to make you feel that way. He might not even do it on purpose, or his intentions might not be entirely evil. Maybe he simply didn't realize how he always avoided being by your side like the plague, or how his body immediately tensed and he balled his hands into fists everytime you were less than two feet away from him, or how he would look at you from the corner of his eye everytime you decided you speak, almost as if he was waiting for you to shut up to finally let out the air he was containing inside his lungs in relief.

Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.

And with time, you couldn't help but attribute that disdain and hostility that Park Jimin always directed at you to the many undeniable differences that constituted each of you. Park Jimin, with his impeccable and always well ironed Prada shirts, his spotless trousers, jewelry that probably costed more than three of your annual salaries, and always emanating that Givenchy fragance that screamed "wealth!" every rare occasion you could experiment his presence next to you. Exactly two years after that first meeting with Park Jimin, you hadn't been able to avoid reciprocating that feeling of contempt towards him. Not when you were the only victim of his arrogance. Everybody loved Park Jimin, and Park Jimin loved everyone. 

Except you.

Clinging to your glass of Don Pérignon and finishing the rest of the liquid in one go, you try to snap out of your own thoughts, reminding yourself to return to the conversation you're currently having with Taehyung about a pretty waitress that he's met during one of his art exhibitions (or at least that's what you think you caught him say) and forcing yourself by all means to stop observing the friendly and kind smiles that Park Jimin was shooting to those present from across the room and that you will never be able to achieve. 

"_____? Are you even listening to me, darling?" Taehyung's voice is what makes you finally look away from the dumb blond standing on the opposite side of the room, blinking a few times before clearing your throat. 

"Sorry, Tae." letting out a sigh, you try to brush back and put in place the strand of hair that escaped the intricate hairdo you had tried and so miserably failed to do yourself to try to fit in and hopefully impress such environment of preppy and privilaged people (ahem, Park Jimin)  falling on your forehead as best as you can. "Just been really stressed this week and I'm on another planet. You know how I feel about Christmas. I think I need a new flute of . Or five."

Taehyung sends you a look full of empathy and places one of his hands in your shoulder, squeezing lightly in a comforting way. "I'll get you another one. I'll be right back." You quickly interrupt him though, to prevent him from standing up before you.

"No, really. I'll go. I need some fresh air anyways, if you don't mind." And of course Taehyung doesn't mind, so you get on your feet as graceously as your tipsy state allowed you to (who told you it was a good idea to drink three glasses in less than thirty minutes of the extremely expensive champagne Taehyung had brought to the Christmas party he had organized and why did it convince you it would appease your anxiey?) and make your way towards the table where the rest of the bottles are. A table dangerously close to the conversation Jimin and that friend of Lisa (whose name you don't remember) were having.

Both are with their backs turned and, honestly, you take a silent moment to thank God or whatever is up there because the last thing you need right now is yet another awkward interaction with Jimin, so you try as best as you can to refill your glass of champagne to get out of there as soon as possible, praying to make your exit going unnoticed.

But no. Because the stars and the universe loved to align to make you suffer! They love to play with your karma and they love making you damn that one day you didn't help that lady cross the street. They love making you regret buying those plastic straws. They love making you feel guilty for hacking your neighbour's Wifi when you run out of money to pay for yours. Because the moment you try to take a hold of the bottle in your hands, it slips out of your grasp, and you're watching in slow motion how the sparkling berverage ends up spilling all over the extremely expensive (or so you assume. Balenciaga maybe) suit pants Park Jimin decided to wear that night.

Everything is kind of blurry and you can't even hear anything. You can only watch as Park Jimin turns around, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, until his eyes find you, the bane of his existance and immediately recognizing the culprit of his now drenched piece of clothing. And you can watch as, once again, his gaze turns almost black and narrow lightly as to reprimend you for what you've caused. But of course he doesn't say a word. He has nothing to say. He doesn't even look surprised. No. Because obviously, Park Jimin knew that if there was somebody in this room willing to ruin his night, it would be you, and only you.

"Shit!" you're the first one to break the strained silence, but that only makes Jimin flinch. "Shit, shit, shit. I'm so fucking dumb! J-Jimin, I'm so sorry, let me just go grab a paper tow-"

"Don't." his voice cuts through you. Literally cuts through you. Because it's not often that Park Jimin decides to aim his words at you, but everytime he does it holds the same frigid tone. Like knives trying to painfully stab your being. "Just, don't."

In reality, you don't know a lot of things and you don't know what causes what happens next. You don't know if it's the specific time of the year, you don't know if it's your internal stress, or if it's Park Jimin, his voice, or the fact that he will never like you. But it's instant. They way something compresses your chest, and suddenly your eyes are not glaced by the alcohol but by something wet that threatens to flow. You would never admit to anyone they're tears.

So, shutting your mouth and swallowing the uncomfortable feeling of anguish in your throat, leaving your flute forgotten on the table and grabbing the bottle instead. Without saying a word, your feet start moving up the stairs of the ridiculously enourmous house Taehyung owns towards the first free and empty balcony you can find. Free of people and free of Park Jimin.

Closing the large window behind you, you allow yourself to close your eyes and take a deep breath; the icy temperature outside immediately welcoming you. Although the hairs on your arm stand up and you know you're probably going to catch a cold (because the dress you've chosen for the dinner is not at all appropiate for such winter climate), at least the tension in your body seems to disappear while oxygen keeps that ugly feeling in your heart at bay from continuing to choke you.

With shaky hands, you take a big gulp straight from the champagne bottle. Fuck Park Jimin. No man will ever have the power to make you feel what you're feeling right now.  Fuck Park Jimin. And fuck his beautiful face and his ability to make you tremble and fear looking like an idiot. Fuck his fancy clothes and his perfect manicured hands and his marvelous but frigthening presence. 

Knock knock.

The sound makes you jump back from the window, hand grasping your chest while you turn around, coming face to face with the man in question.  Your first instinct is to ignore him. But that thought is already out of the way when it's him the one who struggles with the window lock before opening and taking a step towards you. You step back as he steps in, raising your head up high and puffing your chest. Because your second instinct is to tell Park Jimin to go fuck himself.

"_____, I would like to-"

"You would like to what?" Jimin looks taken aback at your harshness. Alcohol has always been a weapon of mass destruction in your system, provoking words to flow too easily and without filter out of your mouth, more than they already do when you're sober. Especially when it's mixed with the frustration you've been harboring inside of you for two years. That's why when the words start to come out, they won't stop. "To make me feel like shit one more time? To look at me with that fucking conceited face trying to make me feel like you're better than me? Or would you like to ignore me once again as you always do everytime we're in the same fucking room to make sure I know you hate my mere existance, even if it's just the two of us right now?"

The steam leaving your lips due to the accelerated beat of your heart blurs his face for an instant while he looks at you dumbfounded. The silence and his expression makes you scoff, an acidic smile adorning your face while you take another sip of your drink because even with such a stupid face, he still looks delectable with his white shirt and ruined pants. You turn around, removing a tear that you hadn't even realized had fallen during your speech and that, frankly, you were hoping he hadn't either. You would blame it on the cold, anyway.

This time, a gust of wind running through you from head to toe, making you forget of Park Jimin's presence looming behind you, reminding you it's still December and the fabric of your dress is doing nothing to conceal you from the cold.

But before you can do anything about it and blame yourself for being dumb and not taking your coat with you before deciding to step into balcony, Park Jimin surprises you once again, this time by placing his navy blue blazer over the naked skin of your arms.

Your back straightens when you feel his warm breath caressing the back of your neck, at the same time that a voice you have never heard Park Jimin use with you echoes in your ears.

"I really don't hate you, _____. I..." Jimin wets his lips. His body trembles, but it's not due to lacking his own coat, while his brain hurriedly searches for words eloquent and adequate enough to explain voice his thoughts. "I like you very much, _____."

Scoffing again while you shake your head, you push down with all your inner strenght the incipent fluttering of butterflies in your stomach that Jimin has managed to cause in just a matter of seconds. It's probably the longest sentence you've heard from him in two years, and you don't exactly understand why your body is reacting the way it is. But you're also not willing to give Park Jimin the satisfaction of knowing that. He doesn't deserve it anyway. So with all the courage you can muster, you turn around with your hands clenching.

And even though being at such short distance from Jimin is a bit overwhelming and unexpected for you, the irritation still making your blood bubble is enough to not let a man as handsome as him derail you from your current circumstances.

"Well, fuck you Park Jimin. You certainly have a funny fucking way to sh-" his hands cradling your jaw that pull you closer to him and his lips that silent you roughly, but with surprising care. Only for a moment. A moment in which your body betrays you and make you melt into hir warmth. But his voice, low and sinfully husky, murmurs against your lips. 

"God, that mouth of yours..." he goes back to attacking your own lips, this time more firm than before, snatching a sigh from you. The sound has his tongue asking for permission into your mouth, and with your body betraying you once again, you part your lips to allow him in. It's him who whimpers this time, while one of his hand moving until it reaches the bottle in your hand and letting it drop carelessly onto the floor, ignoring the sound of glass shattering and the future scolding you'll get from Taehyung. Instead, he sneaks that same hand on your waist, pulling your body flush against his, fingers digging onto your skin. "It's been driving me crazy for two years. Two years, _____."

He mumbles between kisses and swipes his tongue against yours, while he stars walking the both of you until your back meets the nearest concrete wall. 

"Two years of having to hear the incessant filthy words that leave your mouth..." his own stop their movements and you catch yourself before begging him to reattaching his lips to yours, enjoying instead the path of wet kisses and bruises his lips traile from your chin to the pulse of your neck "...and trying my best to hide the painful boners I get whenever you're nearby." 

With your eyes shut, your hands are back in motion, ignoring the voice in your head reminding you he's still an asshole and finding their way between Jimin's soft golden strands of hair. He hums in appreciation, sending goosebumps all over your body. "So, s-so why not do anything about it sooner?" you say, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe properly.

You feel Jimin's body tensing before you and he ceases the movement of his lips against your neck. Breaking away, your heart stops, afraid you might have ruined the moment. But Jimin's in search of your eyes, eyebrows very lighlty raised, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. You don't know for how long you stare at each other until Jimin comes out of the trance, eyes descending over your flushed cheeks, the very same color as your lips and the soft flesh of your neck until they reach your cleavage, the glimmering fabric encasing your breasts, taunting him the same way they had been doing all night long.

"You scare me so much..." and then, one of his hands repeats the same journey his eyes just did, until he touches your shoulder, right under his own blazer. "Everytime I look at you, all I can think of why the hell a girl as real as you like you would even glance my way." he slides the strap of your dress slowly tentatively, just enough for you to stop his advances if you chose so. You don't. "You're smart in ways I could never compare, so funny it makes me jealous, and so pretty it leaves me speechless. You're...You're everything I'm not."

His voice resonates in the atmosphere, and you would love to blame it on the cold again for how your body has reacted, but your body heat has increased so much since he started kissing you that it would be stupid not to admit that it's just the effect that Park Jimin has on you tonight. You're sure he would've had the same effect if it had happened before.

Your now uncovered breast doesn't even has to suffer the consequences of the icy wind, because one of Jimin's arms quickly comes around you to hold your body against his, lifting you ever so slighty until your erect nipple is at the same level as his mouth and his lips are enveloping it in their warmth. You gasp his name, and that encourages his teeth to tug softly before his tongue stars moving in circes. 

"My God, you're so perfect." Your head spins while you hold onto his shoulders as tight as you can, the undeniable heat roaming all over your form, hips involuntarily rutting his incipent erection poking your abdomen. "Been thinking about this since that night we first met." Looking for relief, Jimin mirrors your movements without ceasing the administrations on your chest, as one of his hands lifts one of your thighs to wrap around his waist, closing the short gap remaining between the both of you. 

"Ohmygod! F-fuck, Jimin," trying to form coherent phrases is almost impossible, not with Jimin finding a slow and tortuous rythm with his hips, his clothed cock rubbing against your core. Something shifts in the air, because Jimin stops abusing your nipple with a loud pop, and shuts you up by pressing his mouth onto yours in an urgent, dirty and desperate kiss. You could almost hear him swearing, while his hand keeps your jaw in place.

"S-stop talking like that, ______." his voice, inaudible, and his face now hiding in the crook of your neck, the thrusting of his hips speeding up, more and more frantic this time. The hand not holding your thigh against his hipbone reveals your other breast, hand covering it and giving it a light squeeze before tugging at your unattended nipple between his forefinger and his thumb while his tongue and teeth mark the skin on your neck. 

"Hell, I've been dying to stuff your mouth with my cock to prevent you from such foul language," the soft whimpers leacving your mouth coax him into taking the hem of your dress and bunching the fabric until his fingers easily find the place in your body calling to him the most through the lace.  It's immediate, how his fingers dampen at the first touch, surprising the both of you, and how your body jolts and an embarrassing sob escapes your throat. "How-how are you this wet? Holy hell, I could just slide right in..."

And as he says that, one of his fingers pull aside the fabric of your underwear and glide into you, so easy. You insides burning while he fingers you, another finger being added with his thumb rubbing circles on your nub. And fuck, you're not sure if you're just too horny and Park Jimin is a magician with his hands, or maybe it's the way he keeps mouthing at your chest and whispering how soaked you are, but you don't think you've ever been so close to cumming in such a short period of time.

"W-whats stopping you?" you manage with a voice that doesn't even resembles yours, but before your hands can even make work of the zipper of his trousers, he pulls his finger out from your center, causing you to whine in protest.

Jimin licks his lips, eyebrows framing the dark expression that his eyes ooze. Although the desire in his eyes is more than evident, it is also evident the faint hesitation in them. Because Park Jimin doesn't do things this way. Park Jimin was raised in a world of correct manners and conservationism. A world that has taught him when and how to act. And as badly as he is dying to fuck you against the wall of Taehyung's ridiculously inmense house, he also wants to do the right thing. 

"Let me take you on a date." 

Park Jimin has been spoiled his whole life. Being born in a well-off family has always provided him of everything he had ever wanted and more. From the innecessary number of toys Santa Claus left under his Christmas tree every year since he was a baby, to his fisrt extravagant sports car at the age of eighteen. Park Jimin has never been a greedy or needy man. How could he, when he's had everything he's ever wished in the palm of his hands. He has never missed anything in his entire life. Hasn't missed a roof over his head, warm food on his plate or brand new designers clothes each week. 

It has taken him two years to control himself. He still remembers that night he first met you, just like he remembers every single time you both had coincided in the same place at the same time. He remembered your scent, had memorized your figure over your pieces of clothing and had tried as best as he could to keep a distance from you because he knew you would never give him the time of day. How could you? You probably despised everything he was because he was definitely nothing like you, and that thought intimidated the fuck out of him. He was a mess everytime you wear nearby. Never relied on his voice because he knew he would stutter if you ever spoke to him, could never trust his eyes because if he ever looked at you he was afraid he wouldn't be able to look away. 

And everytime you spoke, shit, that voice of yours always cursing here and there left him wondering how would you sound in a different setting and if you would still be that badmouthed. More specifically, between his sheets. So he did everything he could to minimize your interactions as much as possible. He just never thought he would come across as such a jerk. It was never his intention to hurt you, and seeing you cry that night (although you denied you did, over and over again) seriously made him realize he wanted to make things right. 

He was trying really, really hard to keep it in his pants, to be the same well composed and controled Park Jimin he had mastered himself to be. 

But that damn dress.

After seeing that little black dress hugging your figure when you started taking off your coat at the restaurant, the brief flash of thigh tights that you accidentaly (or not so accidentally) had blessed him with by crossing a leg over the other, that exposed collarbone calling his name and those heeled sandals with straps wrapping around your ankles, reminding him of the snake tempting Eve, Park Jimin was sure he needed to dig into that apple more than anything he has ever needed before.

That's why he surprises you right after you both finish the second course meal by telling the waitress you won't be having desert, at which you look at him somewhat indignant. But the look he shoots you is enough to make you understand if somebody was going to have desert tonight, it would be him. In his Mercedes. 

"I'm gonna-" you gasp, fingers tugging at the soft strands of his now ruined blond hair, his head between your thighs and your legs thrown over his shoulders. His hands have a grip of the meaty flesh of your ass, holding you firmly againt his mouth as it works wonders on your clit. You're sure it hasn't even been ten minutes since Jimin had opened your legs in the backseat of his car, not even bothering to take your underwear off, simply moving the fabric aside before diving in, and you already feel yourself on the edge of an orgasm.

"I know." voice vibrating right into your core, he slows down his administrations, tongue carefully and delicately lapping at your folds while he enjoys the feeling of your fingers loosening their grip and fondly brushing his hair back. You meet his eyes as he pushes a finger inside your core and your whole body twists in agony. 

"N-no!" 

Jimin stops immediately, lifting his head and focusing his concerned eyes on you. He's about to ask you if he's done anything wrong, but you're fast to roughly pull him up by his hair until his face is leveled with yours. You answer him by kissing him and he returns the kiss with the same eagerness, and now it's your hands that are looking for his cock, palming him through his pants.

"Your dick. Inside. Right Now." you punctuate each phrase with a kiss and he only stops kissing you to pout.

"But I wanted you to cum on my tongue." but still, he's putty in your hands when you undo the botton and the zipper. "Wouldn't you rather me fucking you in my bed, where we're more comfortable?" you notice the slight quivering of his voice when you slide his trousers and boxers down, just enough to pull him out. 

"You can eat me and fuck me as many times as you want tonight, tomorrow and whenever you'd like, but right now..." none of you contain the moan in unision that leaves each of your mouths when just the head of his lenght comes in contact with your entrance. "I really can't wait anymore." brushing your lips over his, you lower your voice. "Wanna get on my hands and knees for you."

Park Jimin has tried to do things the right and appropiate way throughout all his life. He's been a professional from a very young age on how to be in charge of his emotions, his desires and his impulses. Always well mannered and well composed. 

But it's in this moment that Jimin comes to the realization that the only thing that has ever made him lose his mind and self control, is you. Seeing you like this, ass up, grinding your drenched and still thong clad cunt all over his precum dripping lenght, he can't control the way his hand bunches the fabrick of that damn dress over your waist, then flies to your right cheek, a sharp sound of skin filling the air, tearing a gasp from your throat.

"God, I'm-I'm sorry. Couldn't help mys-"

"Do it again."

And he does, the palm of his hand now leaving a reddenning print on your flesh, making you jolt back involuntarily, aligning yourself to the head of his cock and like he had hoped, he slides right in. Not all the way, because Jimin is sure he would cream inside you too soon and he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did. He wets his lips, clenching his jaw and dropping his palm one more time, hand more steady and purposeful. 

"You like it rough?" voice hoarse and a hand beside your head holding himself, your back to his chest, twitching beneath him as he soothes the sting with his free one. 

"I like you rough." turning your head slowly to peer at him from the corner of your eye, your hips moving on their own accord trying to take him deeper. Your head is suddenly pulled back harshly, Jimin's fingers tangling in your hair as his own hips close the remaining gap between your bodys in an abrupt thurst. You squeal, Jimin's cock finally filling you up to the hilt just like you wanted him to be, the pleasure making your arms wobble and finding it harder to mantain your balance. 

Jimin's breath fawns over your ear, his tongue darting out to suck on your skin sending chills down your spine. "You're such a dream." he groans, torturously sliding out of your core that's gripping around his shaft for dear life. A whine of protest escapes your lips and he tightens the hold on your hair in response, diving right back in. You fall forward, your arms' strenght betraying you as his thrusts find a new rhythm. With your eyes closed shut, you try to muffle the sound of your voice with the back of your hand as Jimin's lips place soft kisses to your exposed shoulder.

"Don't be quiet." he stands straight, the pull on your hair arching your back in such a enticing way it was Jimin look away for a second, cock buried inside of you and his hips faltering. "Been dying to have you like this for so long."

Another clap of his hand against your right cheek, and a particular stroke of his dick that has you mewling as your climax approached again. "S-so good, Jimin. Oh my god."

"You're gonna cum for me?" his fingertips leave bruises on your skin and the windows of his Mercedes are foggy, just like your mind. You can't concentrate on anything that's not Jimin's cock sliding in and out and how much you wished this had happened way sooner. "Gonna cum for me like a good slut?"

Park Jimin always takes his time. Always does things nice and slow to assure the best outcome possible. 

But he can't contain the acceleration of his hips against yours as your walls clench impossibly tight around his cock, your orgasm finally taking over . Can't contain himself from falling forward again, hand twisting your head in his direction and his mouth searching for yours in a fiery and messy kiss. And he most definitely can't barely contain himself from cumming when your you ask him to spit in your mouth. 

"You're gonna kill me." he breathes, removing himself off you and quickly maneuvering you on your back, his dick finding its way back inside you. Picking up right where he left off, skin slapping against skin in an obscene melody, he collects a considerate amount of saliva in his mouth before dropping it into your welcoming tongue, watching you swallow with a smile he hopes he'll be the only one to see in the future. 

And that's what has the last bit of his self restraint slipping from his fingers. He somehow manages to rip the top of your dress down, fabric tearing until your tits are free and his mouth is attacking your nipples, white strings of his release panting your walls, some of it them oozing out that he fucks back right into you. 

It's between ragged breaths, kisses and tender carresses that Jimin promises you more dates in the future and new dresses that he can't promise not to savage apart again.

[too-kinky-to-live]

buffet

yes i know i teased this fic months ago but i finally got it finished! this is a pregame oum.asai fic (feat. mutual stuffing owo) 

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32253592

(based off a real experience i had in japan .3.)

Going out to a fancy restaurant was never a luxury Kokichi had.

Going to a standard sushi bar, however, was just barely within his reach. His new Danganronpa buddy, Shuichi Saihara, had invited him to dinner after watching the new episode. Shuichi was far better off than himself, so of course it would be no trouble treating Kokichi to a simple meal. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind paying for me? I’ll try not to order too much if that’ll help…” the smaller one mumbled, not meeting the other’s eyes. 

Shuichi gently put a hand on Kokichi’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. We’re just here to enjoy ourselves, and celebrate another great episode of the best show on television!” The purple haired boy gave a sheepish smile as the two walked into the restaurant and took their seats. A myriad of images flashed onto the screen on the wall next to their booth, showcasing the delicacies available to them. Such a variety was new to Kokichi, to the point where it felt overwhelming. Meanwhile, Shuichi wasted no time in selecting numerous plates of sushi. 

Truthfully, there was another reason Kokichi wanted to come. There was something special about watching Shuichi eat - the glimmer in his eyes and genuine smile when he bit into his favorite foods. His calmness was contagious and made the normally anxious Kokichi feel at peace with him. (And, well… it was nice for Shuichi to focus on something other than Danganronpa, for once.)

It didn’t take long for the sushi plates to slide along the wall’s conveyor belt, accompanied with a cheery chime. Five small plates containing two sushi pieces each were grabbed hastily by Shuichi and placed before him. Faster than Kokichi’s eyes could keep up, a piece of tuna sushi was popped into the blue haired boy’s mouth. Shuichi grinned and chewed a bit, before giving a hearty gulp. 

“Aren’t you gonna order something?”

Kokichi was snapped out of his stupor by the sudden question. “Y-Yeah, I’m still deciding.” Although that was easier said than done, considering his picky nature and the unknown options displayed. Settling for a couple plates of salmon sushi and a can of Panta, he placed his order and tried his best not to stare at Shuichi, who effortlessly wolfed down four of the five plates in front of him. The taller boy’s appetite never failed to amaze him. It was… cute. 

And there it was. It was getting harder for Kokichi to conceal his odd crush on Shuichi, given the circumstances. Watching someone eat so much wasn’t supposed to be cute, was it? He should be disgusted at the other’s brazen disregard for manners, but such an emotion just didn’t exist in this moment. It was mesmerizing, in a way. Just as Kokichi’s order was arriving, Shuichi casually ordered another 3 plates of varying sushi. 

“You okay, ‘Kichi? Your face is red,” he asked, taking a swig of water. 

The smaller boy hurriedly rubbed his cheeks in a futile attempt to cover his blush. “It’s just hot in here, that’s all.” Shuichi said nothing in response, but he could have sworn he saw a smirk on his face. 

Shuichi was on to him, wasn’t he?

Kokichi grabbed his plates and drink and stuffed a piece of sushi in his mouth. He was caught off guard with how fresh it tasted. He was so used to measly cafeteria food, he couldn’t help but smile. No wonder Shuichi was fixated on this stuff. By the time Kokichi finished his first plate, his friend had already cleaned his three new plates. The smaller boy’s mouth was slightly agape as he watched him lean forward to order a small bowl of ramen. Shuichi plopped back in his seat with a satisfied smile, resting his hands on his stomach. 

Kokichi couldn’t help but feel bad about his pace. Maybe he wouldn’t be so scrawny if he ate like his friend. With this new resolve, he shoved the rest of the food in his mouth and took a gulp of soda. Shuichi’s bowl had arrived just then, with the taller boy taking it off the conveyor belt. 

“There’s no need to rush,” he laughed softly. “Your food isn't going anywhere.” 

Kokichi looked up with a smirk. “Same to you, Shu.” 

Shuichi shrugged, but bounced back after a slurp of his noodles. “Dude, you gotta try this!” Kokichi foolishly expected his friend to let him try his, but Shuichi was already scarfing down the bowl. He chuckled quietly before ordering a bowl of his own. The smaller boy was comfortably full, but who was he to deny indulging his best friend? Surely he could handle a small helping of ramen. 

The taller boy went on to order a few more plates along with some side dishes while babbling on about the new episode. Kokichi listened intently as he ate the delicious ramen, finishing his drink straight after. By the time he finished, though, he felt a tightness at his belt. As discreetly as he could, he went to unbutton his pants. He was relatively shocked to see a small lump formed under his uniform. It was such a strange yet warm feeling. Placing his hands on his newly formed belly, he rubbed at it a little. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Shuichi lean in slightly. “Hey ‘Kichi, you want dessert?” 

The smaller boy looked up and blinked. “You’re still hungry?” Just how big was his crush’s stomach capacity? 

“Sorta, but I want to share it with you. You’ve still got room, right?” he asked. 

Kokichi looked down at his stomach, as if he could feel it voicing complaints about the prospect of more food. He did see a delectable-looking slice of strawberry cake on the menu, and he knew he’d regret passing it up. Of course, he also didn’t want to disappoint Shuichi. That was far more important in his eyes. 

“I think I’ll manage,” he replied with a cheeky grin. 

Minutes later, and the cake slice arrived. Despite his fullness, Kokichi felt a bit of drool form around his mouth as he took in the sight before him. A slight strawberry drizzle coated the top with a zigzag design, with a large strawberry sitting atop the back. The filling consisted of vanilla and more strawberries with a rich, creamy icing. Shuichi used his fork to slice it in half, giving the larger portion to Kokichi. Having a dessert like this would be a piece of cake, literally. 

...Or so he thought, until the last bit of strawberry sat on the plate in a taunting manner. His tummy definitely wasn’t happy with him at this point, but he was too far in to give up now. Slowly, Kokichi lifted the piece and brought it to his mouth, easing it in. The strawberry went down with a hard swallow, causing the smaller boy to lean back with a light moan. His fingers curled around the now-open seams of his uniform, feeling the shirt underneath. Kokichi's body was practically begging for a nap, and all the warm food inside him felt heavenly. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so at peace; but that peace was quickly interrupted by excess air rising up his throat. He quickly moved a hand up to his mouth to stifle a small burp before closing his eyes and leaning back once again. 

He peeked an eye open to see Shuichi’s twelve clean plates stacked neatly to the side along with his empty bowl and water glass. The taller boy was also panting a bit, seemingly fiddling with his own pants button. 

“Guess we’re both *urp* done, huh?” Shuichi asked tiredly. Kokichi could only nod in response. 

After a few minutes of struggling to stand, Shuichi paid the bill and the two headed out into the cool, quiet evening. The smaller boy finally got a good look of the damage on his crush, and… wow. Shuichi almost looked pregnant with how much he packed into himself. Kokichi’s belly looked so small by comparison, it made him look like he was exaggerating. He had never eaten so much in his life, he felt as though he would pop at any moment. 

Shuichi, however, seemed to be taking it in stride. “Man, that hit the spot! Guess watching Danganronpa really works up my appetite,” he sighed, giving his soccer ball belly a firm pat. Giving a brief look at his stomach, he suddenly looked at Kokichi with regret. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this, I probably looked like a pig…” 

Kokichi shook his head. “Not at all! You’re not gross. I, um, liked it a lot,” he blushed. For once, Shuichi returned the blush. “That’s a relief. I gotta confess something too, though.” 

The smaller boy looked at him curiously. “I wanted you to have a lot because you look so frail… I’m really worried about your health." He looked away, putting a hand behind his head sheepishly. "Er, sorry, that sounded rude didn’t it? I didn’t mean it like th-” 

“It’s okay, Shuichi. Thank you,” Kokichi gave a gentle smile, placing a hand on the taller boy’s warm stomach. “I’d love to go out with you again sometime.” 

Shuichi gave a large smirk. “So it’s a date, then?” 

Against all odds, Kokichi’s face became even more red. The blue haired boy merely laughed, bending down slightly to give a peck on Kokichi’s cheek. 

“See you after school tomorrow, ‘Kichi.”